


The Romanian Puzzle Box

by Maegykie



Series: In Half-Light and Shadows [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HG/SS, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 43,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maegykie/pseuds/Maegykie
Summary: On their first Christmas together Severus gave Hermione a Romanian Puzzle Box, an ornately decorated wooden box in which she has kept nineteen years of memories. Now, as the first winter snow coats Spinner's End, they sit with their children and reminisce about their time together. This is a sequel to 'In Half-Light and Shadows.'
Relationships: Hermione Granger - Relationship, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Severus Snape - Relationship
Series: In Half-Light and Shadows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158059
Kudos: 7





	1. The Trouble with Isaac

_A/N: This is a sort of sequel, sort of prequel to_ In Half-Light and Shadow _. I would probably recommend reading that story first, but I don’t suppose it’s essential. At the end of that story Severus, Hermione, and their children sit down to go through Hermione’s memory box, the Romanian Puzzle Box. This story tells of what they found in there…_

_A/N II: As mentioned briefly during an author’s note on_ In Half-Light and Shadow _, it is the minutia of Hermione and Severus’s relationship (and their relationship with their children) which interests me, and even more so than_ In Half-Light and Shadows _,_ The Romanian Puzzle Box _will explore this. It’s very… domestic._

~oOo~

Chapter One: The Trouble with Isaac

A fine snow was beginning to settle on the roofs in Spinner’s End; the crisp whiteness contrasting against the perpetual grey of the place even as the last light of day faded from the wintery sky. Severus glanced down the street to where a small group of Christmas carollers shuffled from door-to-door, huddled together for warmth as their breaths rose is wisps of cloudy air. Severus didn’t think many residents of Spinner’s End would appreciate Christmas carols, him amongst them, and so it was with grim satisfaction that he closed the living room curtains, and with them closed out the world.

In here it was just him and his little family; a more wholesome scene than he could have ever imagined himself to be a part of. Hermione sat squashed against the arm of the settee, wearing one of his old knitted jumpers despite the fire which roared in the hearth; Nathaniel sat beside her, not too old for a hug from his mum now that there was no chance any of the local kids might espy it through the window; and beside him was Isaac, who had his arm elbow deep in the ornate Romanian Puzzle Box. Severus lodged himself back into the remaining sliver of settee beside his eldest son.

‘Come on!’ Nathaniel urged his older brother impatiently, nudging Isaac’s arm, ‘pick something!’

Isaac frowned as he rummaged around inside the box. Hermione’s little expansion charm, the same she’d used on her purple beaded bag in the last year of the war, meant that nineteen years worth of memories were easily stored inside.

‘Alright, this,’ Isaac said at length, withdrawing an envelope at random. It was addressed to Mr. S. Snape and Ms. H. Granger, and the broken wax seal bore the Hogwarts crest. ‘Or maybe not,’ Isaac continued, hastily trying to push it back inside the box.

‘Hang on a minute,’ Nathaniel protested, plucking the envelope from his brother’s fingers and managing to hold it just out of his reach. ‘This is about what happened last year, isn’t it?’

‘Why would you keep that?’ Isaac addressed his parents, flushing slightly and folding his arms across his chest.

‘Perhaps to remind us all in the years to come that you’re not quite so perfect after all!’ Nathaniel suggested with a grin.

Isaac scowled at his brother in a way which made him look uncannily like his father. ‘Let’s look at something else,’ he said, rather feebly.

‘No! I want to know the full story. No one ever told me anything, all I know is what people at school say about it,’ said Nathaniel, ‘and I _know_ some of that can’t be true, it’s ridiculous!’

Hermione sighed and took the envelope from Nathaniel. ‘This isn’t what I envisioned when I suggested we sit down and go through this box,’ she said, ‘but Isaac, maybe it would be best if Nate knows what really happened, then perhaps he can help put to rest some of the rumours?’

‘What? By telling everyone what an absolute loser I am?’ Isaac grumbled.

‘Oi,’ Severus chided, ‘no one thinks that. As much of a nightmare as you were, we’re all capable of doing stupid things when we’re young,’ he reminded them. Severus had been in equal parts infuriated, mortified, and disappointed by Isaac’s behaviour around Christmas last year, but with hindsight, he couldn’t forget that when he’d been Isaac’s age he was preparing to become a Death Eater, and he felt a certain gratitude for the fact that he wasn’t having to deal with anything so frightening as that.

‘I don’t need my little brother to protect me,’ Isaac said.

‘He’d just be looking out for you,’ Hermione reasoned, ‘as I’d expect you all to be doing anyway.’

‘ _Please_ tell me! You’re scaring me now!’ Nathaniel implored, issuing his brother a concerned look.

Isaac looked between his parents and his brother and then relented with a rather unenthusiastic, ‘fine!’

‘Alright,’ said Hermione, ‘well, it all started one morning after we received this letter…’

~oOo~ One Year Earlier ~oOo~

Severus watched Hermione carefully over their half-eaten breakfasts, forgotten the moment the impudent tawny owl had first scratched its talons against kitchen window to gain their attention. A letter from the school had sent Hermione into immediate panic; perhaps one of the children was ill or hurt. But as she’d torn open the envelope and begun to read the contents her entire countenance had shifted to something Severus couldn’t quite interpret.

‘What is it?’ he enquired, but she dismissed him with an impatient wave of her hand as she continued to read. He gave her another moment and then tried again: ‘well?’

‘It’s Isaac,’ she finally replied, ‘there’s been some kind of bother.’

Seeing that Hermione was unlikely to enlighten him any further in her current state, Severus got to his feet so he could read the letter over her shoulder. After giving it a thorough going over he sat back down at the table somewhat perplexed. ‘If it was Erin, I could believe it,’ he said, brow furrowed, ‘but Isaac…’ he trailed off, shaking his head doubtfully.

‘But what on Earth could he have done?’ Hermione wondered aloud, re-reading the letter, ‘it sounds so serious: _I kindly request your attendance at the school to discuss your son’s behaviour_. What kind of things do they get parents in for?’ she asked.

‘It took quite a lot in Dumbledore’s day, otherwise your parents would have been called in every other week!’ Severus said with a smirk.

Hermione clearly wasn’t in the mood. ‘Are you suggesting that this is somehow my fault?’

‘What? No, I was _joking_ ,’ he replied, ‘…my apologies.’

‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m just worried. This isn’t like him at all.’

‘They got Sirius Black’s parents in when he tried to kill me.’

‘Sirius didn’t try to… - are you suggesting Isaac has tried to kill someone?’

‘Hermione!’ Severus exclaimed, ‘calm down! What can he possibly have done that’s _that_ bad? This is Isaac we’re talking about.’

Her shoulders dropping and a worried expression marring her features, Hermione returned to the table and situated herself across from Severus. ‘My concern is that some other kids have got him involved in something. Isaac’s… impressionable,’ she said with uncertainty.

It was not something she liked thinking of her son, but it was true nonetheless. He was easily influenced. At home it was usually Erin leading him into mischief, whether it be staying out past their curfew, wandering into parts of Cokeworth their parents really rather wished they wouldn’t, or there was time she’d encouraged him to get steaming drunk at a friend’s house party. But it was all fairly typical, nothing that had ever warranted more than a good telling off, the pair of them being banished to their rooms, or, in the case of the party, nothing a particularly fine hangover had not resolved. But at Hogwarts, away from his parents’ protective gaze, and amongst his Slytherin peers, there was no knowing what Isaac got up to. And Isaac himself was always so reticent on the subject of his time at school; he seldom wrote, and when asked whether he’d had a good term or was enjoying his classes, his answers were typically monosyllabic.

Severus sat with his lips tight closed; he looked as though he wanted to disagree with Hermione but couldn’t quite bring himself to because he knew she was right. ‘That’s possible,’ he said at length. ‘Worryingly, it’s perhaps the best we can hope for.’

‘No, the best we can hope for is that this has all been some terrible misunderstanding,’ Hermione corrected him.

‘Mmm… unfortunately I find that unlikely when it’s Minerva that’s investigated it herself.’

~oOo~

As her letter had instructed they ought, Hermione and Severus arrived by Floo directly into Headmistress McGonagall’s office at precisely twelve o’clock the following afternoon. The sky outside the windows was a similar shade of grey to the castle’s brickwork, and leant an ominous, chilly atmosphere to proceedings.

‘Hermione. Severus!’ Minerva welcomed them with a contrasting warmth, striding over from her desk with her hand outstretched. They each shook it in turn, and as they did Minerva placed her hand hand gently on top in a gesture which told them that they were not going to like what was to come, but reminded them also that Minerva was merely paying due diligence to her job. ‘It’s been a while,’ the older witch continued, ‘I’m sorry we’re meeting on this occasion under such sorry circumstances. Please, take a seat.’

She gestured towards those ancient, overstuffed armchairs which sat opposite her desk. Isaac already occupied one of them, looking slightly withered. He glanced up at his parents as they approached, and then quickly trained his gaze back on the floor. Severus and Hermione flanked him, each taking a seat on either side of him. Hermione noticed the blank canvas above McGonagall’s head. The last time she’d been in this room it was to beg Dumbledore’s portrait to give evidence at Severus’s trial, and though they had succeeded, she was glad it was empty today.

‘Your letter wasn’t really clear about what’s happened,’ Hermione said once they were comfortable.

‘No,’ Minerva conceded, ‘I felt it would be best to discuss this in person, considering the severity of it. You see, since the beginning of term we’ve had a somewhat persistent problem with contraband potions being brewed and sold within the school. We had, until the day before yesterday, been unable to determine the culprit,’ Minerva explained, concluding with a pointed look in Isaac’s direction. Hermione and Severus shared a brief glance between themselves and then turned to their son in tandem. ‘This is what we have managed to confiscate,’ Minerva said, gesturing towards eight large crates of potions which had gone unnoticed by either of her guests.

‘Isaac?’ Hermione asked.

He turned his head towards her slowly and, still avoiding her eye, muttered an apology.

‘What kind of potions?’ Severus hissed through clenched teeth, a telltale muscle twitching in his jaw. Hermione alone observed the panicked glint in his eye and knew what he was thinking; he was wondering whether those potions were Dark Magic.

‘It would seem Isaac began by taking orders for all manner of potions. He’s a very skilled potioneer, of course,’ Minerva replied, with a fond look in Severus’s direction, ‘quite competent enough to make potions that would be a struggle even for the seventh years, but still unqualified to be selling his wares. And the odd healing potion or Pepper Up here or there might have gone unnoticed, but then, Isaac perhaps got a little too cocky. He started making batches of other potions to sell. Polyjuice, there was even a rather diluted Veriteserum going around at one point, and I’m sure you can understand why I can’t condone that? Then there was the love potions; fairly innocuous in and of themselves, but they _were_ quite potent - practically Amortentia - and in a school… well I’m sure you can imagine… we’ve had to reinforce the contraceptive charms cast on the castle just in the case. That was quite a big job.’

‘Has anyone been hurt?’ Hermione asked.

‘Not permanently,’ Minerva admitted, ‘we’ve had a few students come out in strange rashes that have been rather difficult to clear, and a couple who’ve had their hair fall out after using Isaac’s own version of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, some that have had vomiting spells.’

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Do you have anything to say for yourself, Isaac?’

Isaac merely shrugged and the muscle began to dance in Severus’s jaw once again.

‘He’s also neglected his studies,’ Minerva continued after a moment. ‘His grades have dropped considerably, which is disappointing, Isaac, at such vital stage of your education.’ Isaac seemed to recoil further into himself under her gaze as Hermione looked over the grade sheet Minerva had handed her. Isaac could be relied on for straight O’s. He had so many options waiting for him once he’d finished Hogwarts that he couldn’t make his mind up. Severus reached out for the grade sheet and his expression darkened as he read it.

‘This is ridiculous!’ he grumbled, ‘how can you have dedicated so much time brewing this rubbish’ - he gestured towards the crates - ‘that you’ve allowed your actual Potions grade to dip to a P?’ Isaac scowled in that way that made him look eerily like Severus and maintained his silence. Severus glared at him for a long moment and then looked back at McGonagall. ‘Fine. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Minerva. You can be assured that as soon as he comes home at Christmas he won’t know what’s hit him. In fact, as far as you’re concerned,’ he turned back to his son, ‘Christmas is cancelled!’

‘I’ll just stay here then,’ Isaac mumbled, folding his arms and half-turning away from Severus.

‘Well, that’s just the thing,’ Minerva said before Severus had chance to retaliate. Apparently she was about as good as Hermione at reading when Severus was about to lose his patience. ‘This all started right at the beginning of the year. For all that time we’ve given whoever was behind this the opportunity to stop what they were doing, and they have refused. This could have been so dangerous, Isaac. You’re lucky, if anything, that no one was more seriously hurt. Professor Hyde - that’s our Potions Mistress - looked over one of your Felix Felicis brews and it could have made anyone who used it quite ill.’

‘So what are you saying?’ Hermione urged.

‘I’m afraid I have to be quite firm on this. I have no choice but to exclude Isaac, at least until after the Christmas holidays. Perhaps if he has the decency to display some remorse between now and then, he can return,’ Minerva said firmly.

‘Hang on, Minerva,’ Severus said, sitting forward in his chair. ‘That will go on his record. It could effect University applications, apprenticeships… jobs.’

‘I’m sorry, Severus. But he’s risked people’s lives.’

Severus looked quite literally as though he was biting his tongue to prevent himself from saying something he might regret, but Hermione knew he had too much respect for Minerva to push her too far on this.

‘Minerva,’ she said instead. ‘It doesn’t seem fair to jeopardise his entire future because of one stupid mistake.’

‘I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m sorry to all of you; you included Isaac. But this isn’t _one_ stupid mistake. He could have stopped this months ago and chose to continue. He’s taken money for these potions from much younger students who’ve then ended up in the hospital wing. How can I explain to their parents that we let him off with a few evening’s detention? I’m sorry, but I simply cannot budge on this,’ Minerva said, with an air of definitiveness that confirmed to Hermione and Severus that their protestations were useless.

Severus inhaled through his nose. ‘You proud of yourself?’ he asked Isaac.

‘Let’s just go,’ Isaac then said, getting to his feet. ‘I hate this place anyway.’

‘Sit down, Isaac!’ Severus snarled, tugging on Isaac’s robe sleeve. Isaac snatched his arm away and strode over to the fireplace, pulling his already packed trunk along behind him. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the mantlepiece on his way. ‘Don’t you dare!’ Severus snarled. Isaac hesitated with his hand poised over the fire, perhaps sensing that to make another move would send Severus into a rage.

‘I’m so, so sorry, Minerva,’ Hermione found herself saying, almost pleadingly. ‘I promise we’ll get to the bottom of this and Isaac will be back next term with a better attitude.’ She got to her feet and made her way over to Isaac. ‘Come on then. Home,’ she snapped, showing that she in no way condoned his behaviour. Isaac dropped the powder into the flames, which flared green, and they both stepped inside. ‘See you in a minute?’ she asked Severus, who nodded once affirmatively. ‘Number seven, Spinner’s End,’ she said, and with slight whooshing noise they were both gone.

Severus walked over to the fireplace after them but stopped just short of grabbing the Floo powder. He turned to his old colleague. ‘I know better than anyone what it’s like to carry around the consequences of stupid mistakes you made when you were a teenager.’

‘Being an ex-Death Eater and having a temporary exclusion on your school record are hardly the same thing, Severus,’ Minerva replied, issuing him a sympathetic look from across the room. ‘Let me ask you this: had it been you in my position, or it had been someone else’s son, would you have hesitated to do what I have just done?’ Minerva asked.

As he considered his answer something caught his eye above her desk. Dumbledore, slinking back into his frame. It had been sixteen years since he’d been face-to-face with his old master, and it brought back emotions he hadn’t felt in just as long. Severus was wrong if he thought his anger at the old man might have subsided with time.

‘Severus…’ the portrait began, but trailed off as Severus looked away, unresponsive. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with Dumbledore at the moment.

‘I just wanted him to have an easier life,’ he said instead, in answer to McGonagall’s question.

‘That doesn’t mean clearing up after him all the time,’ she said, smiling at him fondly, ‘he has to learn from his own mistakes.’

Severus bowed and then shook his head, defeated. ‘He’ll be back after the holidays then.’

~oOo~

Stepping out into his living room in Spinner’s End, Severus found the house apparently deserted. Hermione’s travelling cloak had been thrown on the settee and following the trail of discarded scarves, gloves, and boots, he deduced that they must have gone upstairs. Severus took off his own boots and followed them, passing a line of photographs which hung above the stairs and showed the children at various ages. The most recent showed Isaac, his brother, and his sister in their school uniforms. Two Gryffindors and Isaac, the sole Slytherin. He was generally much more reserved than either of his siblings, bookish, perhaps somewhat awkward, but he was also gentle and kind, and so it was that his recent behaviour was so utterly out of character. With a shake of his head, Severus moved on up to the room which Isaac and Nathaniel shared, to find Hermione and his son inside.

‘Have some of the other kids got you mixed up in something, Isaac? Are they making you take the blame for this?’ Hermione implored, sat on Nathaniel’s empty bed. Isaac was making an evidently conscientious effort to ignore her, unpacking his trunk, which lay on his own bed, with a purpose. ‘Because if they have, we can sort that out. You just have to tell us and we can sort it.’

Isaac ignored her, and watching the scene from the doorway Severus knew Hermione’s campaign would be futile. He’d leant against this doorway numerous time when Isaac was younger, worrying about his ability to be a good parent. He’d watched Hermione with Isaac and envied the ease with which she could sooth his cries or talk him round from a bad mood, but in time Severus had developed his own methods of achieving these things, it had just taken him a little longer, and the result was that of all his children, Isaac was the one who would seek Severus out when he was upset or needed help or merely wanted to talk. Hermione would often tell Severus how alike he and Isaac were but Severus couldn’t see it himself; he thought Isaac was wonderful.

Anyway, as he stood here now Severus felt at a complete loss.

‘Isaac,’ Hermione was practically pleading, ‘talk to us!’

Isaac’s mouth was a tight line of defiance as he dropped his now empty trunk onto the floor and kicked it under his bed before throwing himself on top his covers, laying on his back with his arms folded across his chest.

‘Your mum asked you a question,’ Severus said, coming into the room but remaining on his feet. ‘Isaac!’ he shouted, losing his patience.

‘I get it, you’re angry!’ Isaac groaned back, breaking his silence at last.

‘Clearly you don’t _get it_!’ Severus roared in return, ‘I’m beyond angry; I’m disappointed. I expect better from you.’

Isaac stopped in his tracks and looked up his father a little sadly. ‘Then I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment,’ he said petulantly.

‘That isn’t what I said and you know it,’ Severus returned. Isaac huffed but said nothing. ‘Right, if this is how you want it,’ Severus continued, ‘you’re grounded. You’re not to leave the house. You don’t listen to music, you don’t read any books that aren’t relevant to your school work, and you don’t write to anyone. Understood?’

‘Whatever.’

‘Isaac…’ Hermione tried one last time, but he was clearly having none of it as he pushed himself further against the head of the bed as if desperately trying to get away from his parents.

‘Leave him,’ Severus insisted, gesturing to Hermione to follow him out of the room. With one last, sad look at her son, she acquiesced.

‘I have to get going,’ she declared once they’d made their way back to the living room. ‘You’ll be OK?’

‘I think I’ll manage,’ Severus grumbled.

‘Of course you will,’ Hermione replied, managing the smallest of smiles.

Severus bowed slightly and kissed the top of her head. ‘See you later.’

~oOo~

It was evening before Severus saw or heard from Isaac again. He was in the living room finishing off reading today’s _Prophet_ when the boy sloped in, hands in pockets. ‘Where’s mum?’ he asked, sliding slowly over the arm of the settee until he was laid down on his back, his feet dangling over the edge.

‘Work,’ Severus replied without looking up from the newspaper he was reading, ‘the world doesn’t stop because you can’t behave yourself.’

‘It’s late for her to be at work.’

‘She’s working on a big project at the moment. She’s having to do extra hours. Perhaps if she hadn’t been dragged into school about you, she’d be home by now.’

Isaac sighed loudly, which Severus ignored. ‘Can I go out?’

‘Are you struggling to understand the concept of “grounded?”’ Severus asked.

Isaac sat up and looked at his father aghast. ‘You can’t seriously expect me to spend the next three weeks in the house? I’ll go mad!’

Severus peered over the top of the newspaper now, removing his reading glasses so he could observe Isaac a little better, and raised an eyebrow. Isaac knew all too well how Severus had been forced to spend six months locked in Spinner’s End under house arrest, and he seemed to understand immediately what Severus’s look implied. He averted his gaze, looking slightly embarrassed, and said nothing.

‘You don’t have any school work to keep you occupied?’ Severus asked.

‘I’ve finished it.’

‘No books you could read in preparation for next term?’

A noncommittal shrug.

‘That’s fine. There’s plenty of stuff you can be doing around the house. The bathroom needs cleaning, there’s dirty pots in the sink, I have cauldrons in the cellar you could scrub out for me… although I’m not sure if you’re to be trusted near my potions ingredients!’ Severus suggested.

‘What?’ Isaac practically snarled, ‘you want me to do all the stuff _you_ should be doing while mum is at work?’

Severus scowled at him, feeling his temper flare. ‘Watch your mouth!’

The argument was on the brink of escalating when the front door clicked open and a harassed sounding Hermione came in through it. She entered the living room still in her thick woollen winter robes. She eyed Isaac somewhat warily before leaning in to kiss Severus on the cheek. ‘Sorry I’m back so late,’ she apologised. ‘Hell of a day. Pecksniff managed to lose an entire cabinet full of regulations for keeping pet Crups, and I think the snow in Scotland has brought out the Sylphs, so there’s been goodness knows how many Muggle sightings of those, on top of everything else we’ve got going on…’ she paused, apparently sensing the tension in the room, ‘…anyway, I’m home now.’

Severus wrenched his glare from Isaac and finally turned his attention to Hermione. ‘Tea won’t be long,’ he said, his tone as mild as he could force it to be.

‘Right,’ said Hermione, ‘and are we any closer to discovering the motivation behind this one’s,’ - she nodded her head in Isaac’s direction - ‘recent behaviour?’

‘No,’ Severus replied, ‘although he’s had plenty to say on the topic of my contribution to the household,’ Severus said.

‘What?’ Hermione enquired, looking between them both perplexed. She sighed resignedly when neither of them spoke. ‘I’m going to get a bath and put my pyjamas on,’ she said, ‘then we’re going to have tea!’

~oOo~

The house in Spinner’s End was perpetually cold in winter. No matter how many times the engineer from British Gas had been out to check the boiler, or how many warming charms were cast upon it, from the beginning of November until mid-March, there was an immovable chill in the air. And so, it was with that, that Severus and Hermione found themselves huddled together in the middle of their bed later that evening.

‘It’s freezing,’ Hermione complained, snuggling into Severus’s chest. They both wore pyjamas and old, bobbly jumpers.

‘Maybe we should look into wall insulation again?’ Severus suggested.

‘Maybe… so… he hasn’t said _anything_ about why he’s done all this?’ Hermione asked, getting down to what they both really wanted to talk about.

‘I’ve barely seen him all day. He came down from his room about ten minutes before you came home from work, wound me up, and then went back to his room after tea, which you were here for. He’s said nothing.’

‘I can’t see that he wouldn’t just tell us if he wasn’t covering for someone…’ she replied, trailing off as she felt Severus flinch beside her. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

Severus signed, his expression somewhat pained. ‘Don’t… I don’t like that thought… what you said before, about him being impressionable, it terrifies me. That’s just how I was…’

‘He hasn’t got himself caught up in Dark Magic,’ Hermione replied, sounding as much as if she were trying to convince herself as Severus.

‘Yet,’ Severus replied, ‘just because the potions weren’t Dark Magic doesn’t mean his reason for making them wasn’t something sinister.’

‘There isn’t Dark Magic at Hogwarts, Severus. Not any more.’

‘Course there isn’t.’

Hermione shot him a warning glance before saying: ‘Isaac wouldn’t get himself mixed up in anything like that. I was just thinking that maybe some older kids were taking advantage of his potions skills or something… Hey, maybe tomorrow you could do something nice together?’

‘Nice?’ Severus scoffed, ‘he’s supposed to be being punished!’

‘I know that,’ Hermione replied, twiddling a bobble on Severus’s jumper between her forefinger and thumb. ‘I just think it’s more important that he feels he can tell us what’s bothering him, then we can worry about punishments later. Maybe you could hike up Mam Tor? It’d probably be good for you both to get some fresh air.’

Severus sighed. ‘Fine,’ he said grumpily, ‘if it’ll stop you jabbering,’ he continued, closing his eyes and drawing her closer to him. She poked him in the ribs for his comment. ‘I need to go to Diagon Alley anyway. He can come with me,’ he continued, ‘he likes looking in the apothecary doesn’t he?’

‘Yeah. And then maybe he could help you make your next batch of potions when you get back?’

‘He isn’t seven!’ Severus protested. Chopping ingredients while Severus brewed was something Isaac would have spent hours doing when he was younger, and Severus had enjoyed that he had this in common with son, but he imagined he might have a little more trouble engaging a sixteen-year-old Isaac in the same activity.

‘Just try and talk to him,’ Hermione said with a yawn. ‘You two have always been close.’

~oOo~

Hermione left early for work again the next morning, well before the weak winter sun had properly risen. Severus rose with her and after she was gone busied himself for an hour or so in the cellar, making no effort to be quiet despite Isaac still sleeping upstairs. Isaac had thus far caused his parents to lose enough sleep, it only seemed fair that he wasn’t afforded the privilege of a morning in bed for his efforts, and so it was not much later when Severus went to Isaac’s room.

‘Up,’ he said, ragging back the curtains so that the rose gold light of winter dawn spilled into the room. Isaac flinched at the brightness and huddled under his duvet. ‘I said “up,”’ Severus repeated, moving over to the wardrobe and pulling out a jumper and pair of jeans. ‘Get dressed,’ he added, throwing them onto the end of the bed.

‘What time is it?’ Isaac groaned, his voice muffled by his pillow.

‘Seven. Hurry up. We need to get going. I want to miss the Christmas crowds.’

‘What? Where are we going?’

‘Diagon Alley. I need ingredients, so the apothecary and nursery,’ Severus replied.

Isaac scowled up at his father and then dropped his head back onto his pillow. ‘I can stay here,’ he moaned.

‘Yeah,’ said Severus, in a tone which made clear he was in no mood for Isaac’s attitude. ‘You could, only clearly I can’t trust you to stay here on your own, so you’re coming whether you like it or not. Now get up,’ he said, pulling the covers back off the bed. ‘You’ve got ten minutes,’ he added.

‘I don’t want to.’

‘Tough!’ Severus said with some finality, issuing Isaac a firm glare before stalking out of the room. He waited impatiently at the bottom of the stairs, rapping his fingers on the bannister and sighing deeply every so often. Isaac emerged, dishevelled looking but at least dressed, about twenty minutes later. He yawned wildly for dramatic effect and then lumbered to the bottom of the stairs and sat down. Severus remained silent as the boy slowly pulled on his shoes and did up the laces.

‘Don’t wind me up today,’ Severus warned as Isaac finally got to his feet again and gestured that he was ready.

In response, Isaac shoved his hands deep in his coat pockets and said nothing. He trudged behind his father into the living room where they Flooed in unison to The Leaky Cauldron. The bar was empty save a few customers enjoying an early breakfast before they braved the cold and the crowds in pursuit of their Christmas shopping. Severus walked through the inn with his head down. This was his usual posture when out in public; people still recognised him, even after all these years, and it made for an easier life if he could keep this to a minimum, but especially today, with Isaac trailing after him, dragging his feet, and out of school in the middle of term time, it would be preferable if any enquiries into how the family were doing were non-existent.

He moved briskly out into the courtyard and then through the brick wall into Diagon Alley, urging Isaac along with a firm hand on his back now, though Isaac quickly wriggled away and walked a few paces aside from his father. Much to Severus’s relief it was still relatively quiet and they were able to reach the apothecary without being accosted. Inside was cold and dark, but most importantly, save for the owner, completely empty.

‘Ah, Mr. Snape,’ said the proprietor, a wizened old man in dusty robes. ‘And your boy! It’s been a while. You’re looking and more and more like your father the older you get. And you still have the same passion for potions? I remember you used to want to take over the family business one day.’

Isaac looked thoroughly unimpressed by the shopkeeper’s assessment. ‘Not really,’ he said bluntly.

‘Still. Time flies but… you can’t be out of school yet, surely?’ the shopkeeper continued, apparently undeterred by Isaac’s hostility.

‘He’s been unwell,’ Severus replied at precisely the same moment Isaac said: ‘I’ve been excluded.’

The shopkeeper looked between them, apparently unsure how to respond to that. ‘I… I have your order in the back, Mr. Snape. If you just give me a moment I’ll go find it out,’ he said eventually, scuttling into the back room out of sight.

‘There’s some other bits I need,’ Severus said, ignoring Isaac’s impatient sigh. He moved off the peruse the shelves of bottled and packaged potions ingredients.

Isaac shifted over to the opposite side of the shop. ‘This is boring,’ he said after barely any time at all, shaking up a jar of pickled bat’s eyes so that the contents bobbed around inside in a most unsettling way. ‘How much longer are you going to be?’

‘I’ll be as long as it takes,’ Severus replied amiably, continuing to browse a shelf of various dried insect wings. However, when the old wizard still hadn’t returned with his order after another minute or so, Severus did turn his attention, clandestinely, to his son. He could have been watching himself, so like him in appearance as Isaac was. He’d always been a scrawny thing, small for his age until last summer when he’d sprouted up to almost Severus’s height, and his hair had always been as stubbornly greasy, though he kept it shorter and so managed to get away with it. This was the boy who had crawled into his parents’ bed during storms, the child who wouldn’t let go of Hermione’s hand on the first day of primary school, who collected bugs, and cried when he thought he was going to get into trouble for the slightest misdemeanour. And now Severus observed a downy coat of black hair on Isaac’s chin, and realising he was going to have to teach him to shave soon, wondered where that little boy had gone. It was an oddly depressing, yet simultaneously joyful, thought to think that seemingly just last week he had been teaching the boy to read, and now he would need to teach him to shave…

‘What?’ asked Isaac, suddenly realising Severus had been watching him.

‘Nothing,’ Severus replied, unable to suppress a small chuckle. ‘Do you want to go and get something to eat after we’ve been to the nursery?’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘You must be. You didn’t have any breakfast.’

Isaac looked as though he might be begrudgingly considering the offer and Severus suspected his appetite would win out in the end. ‘Alright,’ the boy acquiesced at length. The shopkeeper returned shortly afterwards and after a quick trip to the nursery to pick up a packet of dittany seeds, Severus and Isaac found themselves at a table for two in a shadowy corner of Duffin and Dobbins Delectables. It was both of their’s favourite café in all of Diagon Alley if for no other reason than their preposterous portion sizes, but whilst Isaac ordered his customary full English breakfast, Severus settled for a bowl of porridge. As they ate Isaac didn’t say very much, but at least he wasn’t being unpleasant, Severus thought, enjoying the relative calm that had washed over them since they’d come in here. Then the tinkling of a bell over the door announced the entrance of a group of men: Ministry workers by the looks of their shabby suits, and then from the back of the gathering, beaming maniacally and now sauntering over to their table was Harry Potter.

‘Oh, Merlin!’ Severus grumbled under his breath, which caused Isaac to smirk. Severus wiped his mouth on a napkin and then turned to face his old foe. ‘Hello Harry,’ he said, more loudly and quite cheerful sounding now.

‘Hello Severus,’ Harry replied by way of greeting, and then turning to Isaac, ‘and, ah, if it isn’t our very own Walter White,’ he said, grinning at Isaac and punching him jovially on the shoulder.

Isaac scowled. ‘I have no idea what that means,’ he grumbled.

‘He was a sort of… drug dealer in an old TV show…’ Harry said with a frown. ‘Bad joke,’ he added. ‘Your mum told me what happened at school,’ he continued, changing the subject quickly upon also seeing Severus’s sour expression.

‘So?’

‘Yeah,’ Harry continued with a strained smile, ‘she also mentioned your complete personality transplant.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with you,’ Isaac retaliated.

‘Isaac!’ Severus growled.

‘I’m sick of this. Look, I don’t see what the big deal is,’ Isaac continued undeterred, pushing away his plate of unfinished food. ‘It’s no worse than anything the Weasley twins used to do at school. You’ve bored us all a million times with stories about their Skiving Snackbox experiments. No one kicked off when _they_ put kids in the hospital wing.’

‘Course they did!’ Severus replied. ‘They were never out of detention, usually with me!’

‘And none of them were my son,’ Harry said. ‘James was really ill after trying your Veritaserum. Of course we didn’t know it was _your_ Veritaserum at the time.’

‘I don’t care. It’s not my problem,’ Isaac replied defensively. ‘I didn’t force anyone to use them,’ he added, more quietly.

‘And what if it had been Erin or Nate?’ Harry asked.

Isaac shrugged.

‘I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t care if your sister or your brother had ended up getting sick.’

‘I don’t think he cares about anyone but himself,’ Severus replied when Isaac remained stubbornly silent, his lack of response perhaps speaking volumes.

‘I don’t know what’s got into him,’ Harry agreed.

At that Isaac stood suddenly, snatching his jacket off the back of his chair. ‘I’ll wait outside while you two finish up talking about me as if I’m not here,’ he grunted, before marching between the tables and out of the café, the bell signally his exit just as it had heralded Harry’s entrance. Both Severus and Harry watched Isaac for a moment as he paced in front of the window and then wandered off down the street, his hands back in his pockets and his shoulders hunched.

‘Seems like you have your hands full,’ Harry said, occupying Isaac’s vacated seat. ‘Although, I wouldn’t have thought it would be too much trouble for you,’ he continued, smirking in a way Severus hated. ‘Discipline was your speciality when I was Isaac’s age.’

‘It would seem it’s different when it’s your own kids you’re disciplining,’ Severus reluctantly admitted. ‘Hermione doesn’t think it’s discipline he needs, anyway.’

‘Mmm… Ginny was like that when we had that trouble with Albus the other year. She wanted me to _talk_ to him, but every time I tried it just seemed to make matters worse,’ Harry replied.

‘Well let’s hope this doesn’t turn out like _that_ turned out,’ Severus said, eyebrow raised.

‘No, let’s not,’ Harry said seriously.

‘Got you your coffee, boss,’ one of the men called over to Harry, interrupting the tension. There was a flicker of recognition that crossed his face as the man noticed who Harry was talking to, but perhaps sensing the frustration in Severus’s body language he refrained from acting on it.

‘Coming,’ Harry called back. ‘Fresh meat,’ he then said, turning back to Severus. ‘They’re just finishing up their first term of Auror training.’

‘Ah. Should we be worried?’

‘Let’s just say they’re yet another reason to be thankful that Voldemort is gone,’ he said with a chuckle as he got to his feet. ‘Look, for what it’s worth, Ginny was right. After everything we went through with Albus, it _was_ talking to him that worked in the end.’

‘Well,’ Severus replied with a sardonic look on face, ‘thanks for that… profound parenting advice.’

‘You’re welcome,’ returned Harry, grinning again. Whilst their relationship might have ameliorated into something akin to friendship in the years since The War, Severus still got the distinct impression that one of Harry’s favourite past times was finding new ways to annoy him.

As Harry rejoined his colleagues Severus pulled out some coins from his wallet to settle the bill and then made his way back onto the frosty street to find Isaac. ‘Come on,’ he said, spotting him looking through the window at Eeylops Owl Emporium, ‘home.’ And with that he clutched at Isaac’s forearm and Apparated them directly back to Spinner’s End.

~oOo~

The moment they landed back in their living room, Isaac began a hasty retreat upstairs. ‘Wait,’ Severus said before he had chance to disappear. ‘I want a word.’

Isaac huffed and turned back from the doorway to face his father. ‘What?’ he snapped.

‘Your behaviour just now was embarrassing,’ Severus said simply.

‘A disappointment _and_ an embarrassment,’ Isaac replied, nodding with an exaggerated expression of thoughtfulness on his face. ‘What a productive week I’m having!’

‘This isn’t funny,’ Severus said, exasperated. He paused, took a deep breath, remembered what Harry had said, and started again. ‘Look, all me and your mum have ever wanted is for you kids to be happy, and it’s clear that you aren’t. What’s going on inside your head?’

‘If you’re so ashamed of me, why can’t you just leave me alone?’

‘I’m not ashamed of _you_ , I’m ashamed of your behaviour! We’re trying our best here, Isaac, that’s all we’ve ever done-’

‘-Well, maybe your best just wasn’t good enough?’ Isaac hissed, ‘anyway, I’m of age in a few months and then I won’t be your concern… and you won’t be able to tell me what to do!’

Severus felt momentarily stunned into silence. He glared down at Isaac, who was mere inches shorter than him, and Isaac glared back up. There was a long, deafening silence and then Isaac made a scoffing noise, issued from the back of his throat, and turned to leave again.

Severus’s nostrils flared and before he could quite think about what he was doing he had grabbed Isaac roughly by the collar and pulled him so close their noses were practically touching. ‘Of age or not, while ever you are under our roof you will do as I, and your mother, say!’ he spat. Isaac began to writhe within his grasp, which only caused him to tighten his grip. ‘And you will _always_ be our concern! Actually, it terrifies me, Isaac, that you’re of age in a few months and you think this kind of behaviour is acceptable, and not just the potions, the way you speak to people! I don’t know when you became such an ungrateful brat, but it stops now…’ It was in this moment that he noticed something which horrified him; a familiar look of terror in Isaac’s eyes and he realised now that he was holding him so tightly his knuckles had gone white. He released his grip and watched Isaac stumble away from him, his expression still fearful. ‘Isaac, I…’

But Isaac wasn’t listening. He fumbled with his clothes, trying to straighten them out while he gathered his wits and then he turned to leave once more. ‘Isaac,’ Severus pleaded. Following him out into the hallway Severus reached out for Isaac again as he took the first few stairs, recoiling as the boy flinched slightly when his fingertips brushed his arm.

Then the front door opened and they both stood stock still, observing Hermione coming in out of the snow. ‘Am I interrupting something?’ she asked as the door closed again behind her, looking quizzically between Isaac, who had stopped halfway up the stairs, and Severus who remained at the bottom.

‘Only _him_ being a complete dickhead,’ Isaac spat.

Severus jerked in Isaac’s direction, but Hermione was faster. ‘How dare you speak about your father like that?’ she screeched in a tone of voice which seemed to surprise even her. ‘Get out of my sight! Go on. Go to your room!’ Isaac hesitated for just the briefest of moments, his expression stricken. He opened his mouth to speak but Hermione had heard enough. ‘I’m not interested in anything else you have to say! I don’t know what’s got into you Isaac but I am sick of having to put up with this vile behaviour from you. Now go!’ She flicked her hand abruptly and dismissively in Isaac’s direction and he turned and fled, slamming his bedroom door behind himself.

Hermione and Severus remained on the stairs for a moment longer; both breathing heavily as they attempted to compose themselves. 

‘I…’ Severus began, but stopped when Hermione walked away from him without a word. He inhaled a deep, steadying breath and followed her into the kitchen where she was pouring herself a large glass of red wine. ‘You’re home early,’ he stated.

‘I’m owed some hours so I thought I’d come home and try and get this sorted. What were you arguing about before I interrupted?’ she asked after gulping several large mouthfuls of the plum-coloured liquid down.

‘Bit early for that, isn’t it?’

Hermione issued him a glare which was enough to silence him. ‘It’s after twelve. What were you arguing about?’

‘The same thing we’re always arguing about,’ Severus replied, ‘his damned attitude!’

He watched Hermione, who appeared to be in deep thought, for a long moment. ‘I don’t think I can take much more of this,’ she said, sounding utterly exhausted. ‘Everything going pear-shaped at work, you being ill, all this with Isaac… you know I’ve gained half a stone recently?’

‘Err…’

‘I would never have spoken to my parents like that,’ she continued.

‘Ha!’ Severus gave a small shrug. ‘I would have!’

‘Completely different situation,’ Hermione replied. ‘I can’t think what reason Isaac has to be so angry at us.’ Severus said nothing. ‘He doesn’t know how good he’s got it,’ Hermione concluded, refilling her glass. She took another mouthful and dropped into one of the seats around the kitchen table.

Severus merely watched her. An uncomfortably lump in his throat suggested the truth about to erupt from inside him. He swallowed in an attempt to suppress it but before he quite knew what was happening the words were out of his mouth: ‘we weren’t just arguing about his attitude,’ he said, a little frantically.

‘What?’

Severus groaned and sat across from her, his head falling into his hands. ‘He wound me up, he was utterly vile and… and I just snapped. I’m not proud of myself and I shouldn’t have done it but… you know what he’s been like recently-’

‘-Severus, what did you do?’ Hermione asked, sitting forward suddenly.

‘Well… I didn’t hurt him if that’s what you’re thinking…’ he explained. He saw Hermione relax a bit and felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly in response. ‘I think I just… I might have scared him a bit.’

‘What _did_ you do?’ she asked again, growing impatient.

‘I grabbed his collar, maybe I shook him a bit… I just… lost my temper. But the moment I realised what I’d done… when I saw how scared he was, I let go! I…’ he paused, growing frustrated with himself. ‘I promised myself I’d never hurt them and in that moment I reminded myself so much of father. I-’

‘-Oh, stop trying to make this about you!’ Hermione growled. ‘Stop blaming your father every time you mess up and start taking some responsibility! You’ve probably terrified him. He won’t ever tell us what the matter is now.’

‘I… I _can’t_ tell you,’ a murmuring voice suddenly sounded, barely audibly, from by the kitchen door. His parents hadn’t even realised Isaac was standing there but they both swung round to look at him now. ‘I can’t tell you because its a stupid reason and I don’t want to say it out loud,’ he said.

Hermione stood and frowned worriedly, reaching out comfortingly for Isaac’s shoulder but stopping just short of it, apparently not sure he’d want her to touch him. He looked suddenly solemn, like he might be on verge of crying and his arms were folded across his chest, the way they always were when he was attempting to protect himself from some internal pain.

‘Sit down,’ Hermione said sympathetically, reaching out after all and guiding him towards the kitchen table. He sat down stiffly and then tucked his knees under his chin as his parents sat across from him. ‘Was it the money?’ Hermione suggested, ‘because I know we’re not exactly… flush, but it’s not like you’ve ever gone without!’

‘No,’ came the hasty reply. ‘I didn’t even make a profit. The money just covered the price of ingredients.’

‘Right,’ said Severus, confused. ‘So..?’

Isaac looked at the floor and chewed his bottom lip.

‘Isaac, there’s nothing you can say that will make us think any less of you,’ Hermione assured him, ‘but its time to tell us the truth now.’

Still nothing. Tears appeared to well in his eyes but he wiped them away before they had chance to fall.

‘ _Was_ someone else involved? Maybe a friend that you’re covering for?’ Hermione asked with a sideways glance at Severus who looked back at her slightly disdainfully.

Isaac shook his head.

‘Look, if you’re not here to tell us what’s being going on, I suggest you get back to your room,’ Severus said when the silence had gone on too long.

‘Severus…’ Hermione implored, apparently sensing that he was sabotaging Isaac’s efforts to finally tell them truth.

But Severus had had enough. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m sick and tired of it. You’re not here, all day, every day while he’s spilling forth his vitriol. I don’t know who he thinks he is to speak to us like he does, to behave the way he does!’

‘You’ve already admitted you were worse than him when you were his age,’ Hermione said. ‘Just give him chance to speak.’

‘How many chances do we give him before we do something about it? Because grounding him hasn’t worked, shouting at him hasn’t worked, talking to him hasn’t worked-’

‘What do you propose then, Severus?’ Hermione asked, her voice becoming painfully high-pitched and it was evident from her expression that she was referring to Severus’ earlier admission about grabbing Isaac’s collar. He felt wounded by the intimation, she knew how awful he felt about what had happened, and she knew he would never have hurt Isaac, but he could also appreciate her concern and without a suitable comeback his response was merely to throw up his arms and sit back in his chair. ‘Maybe you should go if you have nothing positive to contribute?’ Hermione continued, ‘Isaac might feel better talking to me seeing as the two of you don’t seem able to do anything but fight these days?’

Severus glared at her for a long moment and then made to stand.

‘No,’ Isaac said, interrupting his parents’ spat. He looked between them with a slightly panicked expression. ‘Stop arguing. I’ll tell you,’ he said, as though building up to something momentous. Severus lowered himself back into his chair. Isaac looked apologetic. ‘It…’ he paused, screwing his face up like it pained him to say it, ‘it made people like me,’ he said at length, as though the words had been pulled from him against his will.

Severus and Hermione looked from Isaac, to one another, and then back at Isaac. Something passed between them during this brief glance and without a word being spoken they both knew they were back on the same side. Unspoken apologies were offered and accepted and they shared a common goal once more.

‘What do you mean?’ Hermione asked, clearly uncertain about how best to approach this.

‘I… when I made potions for people,’ Isaac explained, more clearly now, ‘they wanted to hang out with me; they invited me to Hogsmeade, and Quidditch matches with them; they wanted to work with me on group projects…’

Hermione shook her head. ‘So… it made you popular and that was something you wanted?’ she asked, confused.

Isaac shrugged. ‘No. I just wanted some friends.’

‘I still don’t understand,’ Hermione said, ‘you _have_ friends. You tell us about them, sometimes, when we can get you to say anything. You go to parties… people come to your parties.’

‘They’re Erin’s friends, mum! We’re twins, we _share_ parties! The only friend I have is Adam and I never get to see him because I have to go Hogwarts. I begged you to let me go to Cokeworth Comp.’

‘That was never going to be an option, Isaac, and you know why,’ said Severus, finally finding his voice. As introverted as he was, Isaac had always struggled to socialise. It was something that had concerned his parents when he was younger and had attended the local primary school, but they’d reasoned that he was shy, that he seemed happy playing on his own, that Hermione had been much the same when she was his age, but she’d found her way when she’d got to Hogwarts and met Harry and Ron, and Isaac seemed to do the same. This was certainly the first they were hearing of this. ‘We’ve asked you before whether you were being bullied and you said “no,”’ Severus pointed out.

‘Well, I’m not. No one bullies me, exactly… they’re just not…,’ he paused and then his voice went quiet, ‘they’re just not my friends either. It’s… ugh… it’s tragic, but… I get a bit lonely I suppose.’

‘Oh, Isaac!’ said Hermione sadly, moving into the seat beside her son. ‘But, you know… anyone hanging around with you because you made them potions they… you know they weren’t really your friends, don’t you? Those people will have known that if you got found out you would have been in serious trouble and real friends wouldn’t do that to you.’

Isaac scowled and shifted away from Hermione slightly. ‘I know that,’ he said glumly, ‘but it just… felt good. It was at least… it was closest I was ever likely to get to having some friends.’

‘What about Erin and Nate, though? Or your cousins. You get on with James and Albus and Lily just fine,’ Hermione reminded him.

‘But they’re in other houses. I either barely see them, or when I do they’re not interested in hanging around with a Slytherin.’

‘Not Albus. He’s in your house,’ Hermione reasoned.

‘Albus is a bit… miserable,’ Isaac said, choosing his words carefully. ‘Don’t get me wrong, he’s alright, but him and Scorpius Malfoy don’t really let anyone else… in. There’s just certain… politics at school. Stuff everyone just sort of… abides by. And the other houses avoiding Slytherins is just the way it is.’

‘And Erin and Nate?’ Hermione asked.

‘It’s not their fault. Like I say, it’s just the way it is,’ Isaac replied.

‘It shouldn’t be though,’ Hermione replied, ‘Professor McGonagall changed the entire curriculum to try and even things up between the houses. I remember once saying to her that I was glad that by the time you and Erin started Hogwarts it would be a fairer place.’

‘And she probably has evened things up _a bit_ ,’ Isaac said, ‘but it’s going to take longer than one generation for it to go away completely. Half the school, their parents fought in the war, and they’ve told their kids how most of those involved on Voldemort’s side were Slytherin. I’m not the only Slytherin with this problem.’

Hermione sighed sadly. ‘It just frustrates me that there’s still things from back then - before the war - that are effecting you lot. That isn’t how it was supposed to be. Still,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t explain why you apparently don’t have friends in your own house.’

‘Well if I knew that, maybe I’d have some,’ Isaac said, biting his lip as his tone became slightly agitated again. He waited a moment before speaking again, apparently to calm himself. ‘I don’t know,’ he groaned, ‘I don’t find that I have much in common with them and I never know what to say and… ugh, look, I’ve said it before and I’m sorry but… it’s not easy being in Slytherin and being _your_ son,’ he said quickly, gesturing in Severus’s direction. ‘Not everyone thinks you’re some hero.’

‘Don’t I know it,’ Severus replied with a wry chuckle.

‘I just wish you’d said something sooner,’ Hermione said, addressing Isaac.

‘What were you going to do? Make people be friends with me?’ he responded.

‘I don’t know what we would have done, but I like to think we would have done _something_ ,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’

Isaac screwed his face up and looked away from her. ‘You don’t need to be going into school, or telling Erin and Nate, and especially not James and them lot, to be nicer to me or something.’

‘I certainly will be having a word with Erin and Nate,’ Hermione said, ‘what use is Professor McGonagall’s new curriculum if the students can’t be bothered to put theory into practice? And if you ask me there’s no one better to be doing that than the kids of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin - dare I say it, the kids of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger!’

‘Mum!’ Isaac complained.

‘Your mum’s right, Isaac,’ Severus interjected, ‘but look… I’m sorry that this is the case and I’m even more sorry that you didn’t feel you could tell us sooner, or that we didn’t pick up on it, but… we have strayed a little from the actual problem here.’

Isaac sighed. ‘I never meant for anyone to get hurt, but I got sloppy. The more people started talking to me, the more potions I wanted to churn out. I must have made mistakes. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise to _us_. It’s those people you put in the infirmary you need to be apologising to, and Professor McGonagall for that matter,’ Severus said.

‘Yeah,’ Isaac agreed.

‘And you’re still grounded-’

‘-But-’

‘-No buts. This doesn’t change the fact that what you did was irresponsible and dangerous. You’re grounded until Erin and Nate get back.’

‘Fine.’

‘And… and I am also sorry. For grabbing you the way I did. I shouldn’t have done that,’ Severus said, his voice low and he couldn’t quite bring himself to look Isaac in the eye as he said it. He looked up in time to see Isaac shrug, however. ‘It matters,’ Severus said, ‘it shouldn’t have happened.’

‘It’s fine.’

‘No. It isn’t.’

‘OK, it isn’t,’ Isaac said with another shrug, ‘but I shouldn’t have said that stuff either.’

‘Agreed,’ said Severus, ‘perhaps we can just… move on?’

‘Yeah,’ Hermione agreed, ‘let’s move on from all of this. We don’t pretend it hasn’t happened, but from now on it doesn’t consume our lives. Yes?’ Isaac and Severus both nodded. ‘Good,’ Hermione continued, sighing as though shaking off the last of the tension that had been pent up inside her. ‘I’m glad we got this sorted, Isaac,’ she said, standing and kissing him on the top of the head. He squirmed slightly but didn’t complain. ‘I don’t feel like cooking tonight. Take away?’ More nods from the boys. ‘I’ll find a menu then,’ she said, wandering out of the kitchen after issuing Isaac another squeeze of his shoulder.

It was a long moment before Severus realised Isaac was watching him, his brow furrowed, from the opposite side of the table. Severus looked back over at him questioningly.

‘Dad?’ Isaac began tentatively.

‘Mmm?’

‘Are you OK?’

Severus frowned, confused. ‘Err… yeah?’ he replied.

Isaac’s worried look failed to dissipate. ‘I… sorry… I heard you talking before when I was upstairs. I… I was listening in, but only because I thought you were going to be talking about me… I heard what mum said… about you being ill again…’

‘Oh, that,’ Severus replied, glancing over at Hermione who had returned with the take away menu. ‘That’s nothing to worry about.’

Isaac nodded but looked unconvinced. ‘But mum’s worried.’

Severus inhaled deeply and resignedly and with a nod of a assurance from Hermione decided to explain. ‘It really is nothing for you to worry about,’ he prefaced, hoping this would get rid of the crease between Isaac’s eyebrows. Severus had assumed he would tell the children at some point about the recent developments in his condition, but he hadn’t wanted them worrying about it when they had other such pertinent matters to worry about as NEWTs and such. ‘You already know about how I take the anti-venom to lessen the side-effects of Nagini’s bite.’

‘Yeah… has it stopped working?’ Isaac asked, starting to sound almost frantic.

‘No! It works fine. Honestly,’ Severus assured him. ‘But after I was bitten there were a few years before I had access to any anti-venom, you know that too, and I got quite sick… and there was the time about a year before you were born, when I ended up in hospital again.’

‘Yeah. And then Professor Longbottom sorted you out with the Snowdonia Hawkweed, it made the potion stronger and you were fine again.’

‘That’s right, but those times when I was ill before, it turns out they… they took a toll on my heart. Weakened it, is the best way I can describe it, so sometimes it struggles to, well… struggles to do what it’s supposed to do.’

Isaac looked pale and panicked, which is precisely why Severus had been reluctant to disclose all this in the first place. ‘So what does that mean?’ he stammered.

‘It doesn’t mean much,’ Severus said with a shrug which he hoped conveyed a certain level on nonchalance. ‘I have some pills from the Healer, which are working, and I just have to drink a little less and lose a little weight,’ he added, patting his slight middle-aged paunch. ‘Oh, and I’m under strict orders from the healer, but primarily your mother, to rest up and avoid stress. But I _am_ fine!’ he reiterated.

Isaac sighed and looked as though he might be about to cry again. ‘I can’t have helped with that last part,’ he sighed, barely audibly. ‘Sorry,’ he choked.

‘Now listen,’ Severus replied firmly. ‘This is not your fault and it really is nothing for you to worry about.’

‘But I _do_ worry about it. I know how strong that anti-venom is. Erin and Nate might not realise but I understand potions… I know how bad your side-effects must be if you need it. I notice when you’re feverish and have to stay in bed, or when mum writes to us at school and says how well you are, it’s obvious that she’s over-compensating because you’ve had some sort of turn… or when we go hiking and you can’t catch your breath, I know that that’s related.’

Severus watched Isaac closely, marvelling somewhat at the boy’s skills of deduction. ‘OK…’ he said eventually, ‘I hadn’t realised that you were so aware of all that. I suppose I don’t really feel that it does impact my life very much.’

‘And it probably doesn’t,’ Isaac replied, ‘I just… notice when it does, that’s all.’

‘You should consider becoming a Healer, Isaac,’ Hermione said, ‘you’d be very good.’

‘Mm,’ Isaac murmured, clearly unconvinced, ‘if they’ll even have me at St. Mungo’s now I have an exclusion on my record… or with my grades,’ he added, sounding full of self-loathing. ‘I’ve messed everything up.’

‘You still have time to turn your grades around,’ Hermione assured him.

‘When you get back you just keep your head down,’ Severus advised.

‘I suppose I won’t have any distractions now I’m not making the potions anymore… it’s not like anyone is going to be inviting me to Quidditch matches or anything anymore.’

‘Isaac?’ Severus said, commanding his son’s attention. ‘You hate Quidditch.’

Isaac frowned. ‘That’s true,’ he said, smiling his first genuine smile in a long time.

~oOo~ The Present ~oOo~

There was a long moment of silence as Nathaniel digested the story. He looked slightly pained as he eventually spoke: ‘But _I_ speak to you at school,’ he said, looking up his brother sadly. ‘At least… I don’t _mean_ to ignore you… I’ll make more of an effort when we get back.’

‘See, this is precisely what I didn’t want,’ Isaac replied, ‘people talking to me because they felt sorry for me.’

‘I don’t feel sorry for you,’ Nathaniel quickly said. ‘I didn’t really listen when mum told us we should make more of an effort to talk to the Slytherins last year,’ he continued, with a sheepish look in Hermione’s direction, ‘but I never really thought about why I wasn’t talking to them in the first place. I certainly never considered how the Slytherins might feel about it. I was just doing it because everyone else was and my least favourite thing is conformity.’

‘It isn’t fair that they should be blamed for things that their parents did,’ Severus said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He might have been talking in general terms but the applicability of what he was saying to their own situation was lost on no one present.

‘Well, I’m going to make more of an effort to talk to all the Slytherins,’ Nathaniel said with a firm nod. ‘Still, I can’t believe it was you making those potions! Or that practically everyone knew and I didn’t! Or that you didn’t tell me you weren’t well!’ he then exclaimed, frowning at his father.

‘As we explained in the story. I’m not ill,’ Severus reiterated firmly.

‘You were too young,’ Hermione attempted to reason with Nathaniel.

‘You always say that,’ Nathaniel said grumpily.

‘Thus far, it’s always been true,’ Hermione said, pulling her youngest into another hug. ‘I’m keeping you my baby,’ she added, and Nathaniel only protested mildly.

‘By the way, _are_ your grades back where they need to be?’ Severus asked Isaac.

‘Getting there,’ Isaac replied meekly with a small smile. ‘They will be,’ he assured his parents. ‘Anyway, in the continued spirit of moving on, it’s your turn to pick something, Nate. He handed the wooden box over to his brother who cheered up immediately as he took it and plunged his hand into its depths.

‘I’m going to find something about me!’


	2. Happy Accidents

Nathaniel had his arm inside The Romanian Puzzle Box practically up to the shoulder. ‘Is there anything in here about me?’ he complained as he rummaged about, occasionally withdrawing an item only to be disappointed that it was a photograph of Erin, a ticket to a show Hermione had dragged Severus to, or an invite to one of his Uncle Harry’s birthday parties.

‘There’s plenty,’ Hermione assured him. ‘Oh, what about that?’ she added, pointing out a piece of folded card with ‘St. Mungo’s - Maternity Ward’ written on it in a fine, sloping script. Nathaniel pulled out his hand and the card with it, opening it up to reveal a blurry ultrasound photograph. An indistinct shape in the centre of it wriggled and writhed.

‘Is that me?’ he asked, squinting at it.

‘Yeah,’ Hermione replied, also narrowing her eyes in an attempt to make sense of the picture. ‘Somewhere in all that. How about the story of how you came to be?’ 

‘Ugh,’ Isaac protested. ‘I don’t think we need the gory details about that!’

Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘I quite agree,’ she chuckled, ‘but what about what happened after that bit? It was all rather…’ she trailed off, trying to think of the right word.

‘Melodramatic,’ Severus finished for her.

Hermione faux-glared at him. ‘If it was it melodramatic it was your fault!’ she told him, ‘anyway, I was thinking more… interesting,’ she said, ‘it was all rather interesting!’

~oOo~ Fourteen Years Earlier ~oOo~

The irony was not lost on Hermione. The decision to send the twins to nursery had been difficult enough, but they’d reasoned that it would be good for them; they’d get to play with other children their age, learn about Muggle society, which would do them no harm when they came time to go to Hogwarts, it would provide an opportunity for Hermione to return to work full time, perhaps finally get the promotion she’d been chasing for the past twelve months, and Severus would be able to expand his business. 

‘It isn’t the wizard way,’ Severus had initially protested. ‘I can teach them here.’

But Hermione had been skeptical of his plan. As someone who had experienced his teaching style, she wasn’t sure it was something she wanted Erin and Isaac subjected to, not at the age of three. ‘But you’re always saying,’ she reasoned carefully, ‘how tired you are, how you could have fulfilled a big order for St. Mungo’s if only the children hadn’t woken up from their naps…’

And in the end it hadn’t taken too much to persuade him. It was for the best, they agreed, and so the twins had been enrolled at the local nursery. Erin had taken to it immediately, leaving Hermione unsure how she should feel when the moment they’d stepped through the door her daughter had grown wide-eyed and then skipped off in the direction of the arts corner without so much as a glance back. Isaac had been more reticent, of course. He’d clutched at Hermione’s hand until his teacher could manage to prise them apart, and then he’d cried long after Hermione had reluctantly left him to head to work. 

‘I’m not sure I can stand that every morning,’ she’d told Severus that evening. ‘He’ll end up with some sort of abandonment complex.’

Severus had raised his eyebrow. ‘He’ll settle down,’ he’d said, and he’d been right. It had taken much longer than his sister but eventually Isaac had seemed to enjoy it and Hermione and Severus had felt comfortable that they had, indeed, made the right choice. Hermione had received her promotion a few months later and Severus had spent his time developing a new anti-venom for Acromantula bites which was currently being trialled at St. Mungo’s.

But now it would appear there had been another development, and, as Hermione read the instructions on the back of the pregnancy test box, she couldn’t help but marvel at the irony - two kids finally off to school and she finds herself pregnant with a third - though she was distracted in the next moment by the front door opening and Erin coming flying through it. Hermione had just enough time to conceal the pregnancy test back in her handbag before her daughter had flung herself into her mother’s arms.

‘Mummy!’ she shrieked joyfully. 

‘Hi baby,’ Hermione replied, stirring abruptly from her thoughts. ‘How was nursery?’

‘Brilliant! Look, I made a painting!’ she giggled, holding out a piece of paper covered in splotches of primary coloured paint.

‘Wow, that’s… beautiful!’ Hermione said, frowning as she tried to decide which way up it was supposed to go, or indeed, what it was supposed to be.

‘Erin!’ Severus growled, coming through the front door with Isaac, and numerous lunch boxes and book bags, in his arms. ‘What have I told you about running off like that?’

‘I told you mummy was home,’ Erin replied.

‘And so she is,’ Severus said with a quizzical frown, groaning as he put Isaac down on the ground. ‘You’re getting too big to carry,’ he told him.

‘No,’ the boy replied simply.

‘Yes!’ Severus insisted.

Hermione smiled. ‘Come and give me a hug, Isaac,’ she urged, holding her arms out to him. He came forwards more slowly than Erin had, though no less eagerly, and fell into them. 

‘I wasn’t expecting you back this early. I was hoping to clear up a bit before you finished work,’ Severus said, indicating the unwashed pots in the sink and the children’s toys on the hallway floor.

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Hermione assured him, ‘I wasn’t feeling very well so they sent me home.’

‘Again?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing a bit of fresh air won’t sort out. I could take the kids to the park, tire them out?’

‘If you’re sure?’

‘I think it’s just what I need,’ she said, feigning a smile. ‘Come on you two! Let’s go to the park, shall we?’ Following a chorus of enthusiasm from the twins, Hermione picked up her handbag, kissed Severus fleetingly on the cheek, and hurried out of the door. 

One side of Spinner’s End, the side in which number seven, their house, stood, was always in shadow, but at this time in the afternoon the opposite side still basked in the mild warmth of the Spring sun, which just managed to peak over the roofs; so taking the children’s hands Hermione marched them across the street. The rows of terraced houses, with their similar grey fronts and the narrow alleys which ran between them made Cokeworth almost labyrinthine. It had taken Hermione months when they had first moved here to learn the shortcut to the park, but today they were taking the long route. 

She told herself that she just needed time to do the test, confirm her suspicions, and then she would tell Severus, but she knew deep down that this was all simply elaborate procrastination. The fact of the matter was, she was terrified of what his reaction was going to be, perhaps she was even a little worried about what her own reaction would be if that test came back positive. 

‘Mummy, can we get some sweets?’ Erin asked as they passed the corner shop.

‘What did Daddy say when you asked him that exact question on the way home from school?’ Hermione replied, somewhat absently.

‘He said “no,”’ Erin conceded.

‘Then there’s your answer,’ Hermione said. ‘You’ll be having your tea in a bit.’

‘Ow,’ Erin complained.

‘You didn’t ask nicely,’ Isaac said. ‘You have to say “please.”’

Erin looked as though she might be about to protest but was then quickly distracted as they turned another corner and the park came into sight. Clutching both their hands just a tad more tightly, Hermione led them across another road, releasing them only when their feet were solidly on grass.

‘Go,’ she told them, ‘be free.’ 

Erin ran off immediately to the slide, while Isaac found himself a stick from under a nearby tree and instead ran around the pretending he was slaying dragons with a sword. The whole park and he chose to play with stick, Hermione mused. She found her children endlessly fascinating. When she was younger she had never specifically imagined children in her future. She’d imagined a career and a town house in London. She would attend charity galas and dinners with influential people. There was, perhaps, a husband who might attend alongside her, but never really any children and ‘maybe one day’ had been her customary response when asked. Actually, now she thought about it, there might have been a phase when she had flirted with the idea of a daughter, an Arithmancy prodigy, but it had been fleeting. 

Needless to say, her life had not turned out how teenaged-Hermione imagined it would, and adult-Hermione could not have been more grateful, though she couldn’t help but wonder how a third child might unsettle equilibrium of their little family. 

Severus appeared more settled than she had ever seen him; demonstrably happy. It had taken him a long time after the trial to truly be this way. At first he hadn’t allowed himself to relax, never trusting that The Ministry would let him get away with making fools of them again, not believing that they wouldn’t find something else to accuse him of, to incarcerate him in Azkaban for. If he heard voices in the street, he would be straight up at the window to check it wasn’t more Aurors come to escort him from his home, and if the Floo flared green his instinctive reaction was to reach for his wand. But no one had come, and in time he had accepted that they weren’t going to. He had allowed himself to properly enjoy the children, enjoy being a father, enjoy his work, and being with Hermione. It was all cosy, and domestic, and normal, in the best sense of the word. There had been no more surprises. No attacks, no illnesses, no trials. No pregnancies. 

She reminded herself that she wasn’t even sure if she was pregnant. Alison from work had been off with a bug the other week, it could well be that. Of course, a bug wouldn’t explain why Hermione had struggled to fasten her jeans every morning for the past week and a half, but still, it could be a bug.

‘Mummy, push me!’ Erin suddenly demanded, disturbing Hermione’s reverie. The child had managed to clamber into one of the swings and was kicking her feet hopelessly in an attempt to propel herself.

‘Ask nicely!’ Isaac reminded his sister, stick still in hand.

Erin pouted at him. ‘Please!’ she said.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. The children were endlessly fascinating to her.

~oOo~

Later that evening, with the children in bed and Severus apparently satisfied that she was tired but otherwise fine, Hermione lay in the bath running her fingers over the ever-so slight convex of her stomach. Her skin felt silky in the warm suds. The pregnancy test lay on the closed toilet seat, taunting her. She was trying to avoid it with her eye, but her subconscious kept drawing her back to it. She was just thankful that from her position here in the bath there was no way she could have seen the results. 

Once her fingers and toes had turned prune-like, Hermione lifted herself from the tub and dried herself down, pulling on a pair of unflattering flannel pyjamas and a thick terry towelling bathrobe. It was no use delaying the inevitable any longer. She picked up the test and examined it for those thin blue lines. 

~oOo~

A short while later she shuffled downstairs and into the living room, where Severus was sat reading one of his potions journals. ‘Feeling better?’ he asked, peering at her over the top of it.

‘Not really,’ she admitted, offering him a weak smile. He shifted as though expecting her to sit beside him but she opted instead to sit on the other settee. A flicker of disheartenment crossed Severus’s features but beyond that, if she’d offended him, he didn’t let on.

‘Can I get you anything?’ he asked instead.

‘No… thanks.’ He looked at her strangely, perhaps suspiciously, and then, with the slightest of shrugs returned to his journal. Hermione chewed her bottom lip throughout a protracted silence. ‘Actually, Severus,’ she said at length, ‘there’s something I need to tell you.’ The words had burst from her before she quite knew what she was doing. She might regret not thinking this through more carefully.

‘Finally,’ he said. He lowered the journal but did not close it, instead keeping it open across his chest like a shield.

‘Finally?’ Hermione questioned.

‘You’ve been keeping something from me for at least a week now,’ he explained, eyebrow raised. 

Hermione felt her cheeks flush. She ought to have know he would have noticed something was wrong. ‘You never said anything?’

He let out a deep chuckle. ‘I wanted you to tell me of your own accord…’ He paused, frowning suddenly. ‘Your illness is nothing serious, is it?’

Hermione managed to issue him a weak smile. ‘I’m not ill,’ she replied meekly. ‘I’m pregnant.’

His expression shifted, like a shadow passing over his face, and he looked suddenly stricken, as though she’d pierced him with something sharp, not told him she was having a baby. He brought a hand up to his chest and rested his palm against his sternum, his breathing shallow and fast. 

‘I…’ Hermione began, but she was interrupted by Severus raising his spare hand to silence her.

‘Shut up,’ he said. His tone wasn’t unkind, precisely, but Hermione could sense from it that he was struggling.

She waited patiently, silently, for what seemed an awfully long time, until he appeared to have returned to his senses. ‘That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting,’ she said at length, her joviality tinged with unease. She moved to sit next to him and now she was closer she could practically sense the tension in him. ‘It’s bad timing, I know, but-’

‘-It’s not that,’ he croaked suddenly, ‘the timing is certainly no worse than it was when we had the twins… you’re absolutely sure?’ There was perhaps a fleeting, flicker of a smile that passed across his lips.

‘I took a Muggle test - I know how you feel about Muggle things, maybe now you can make me a potion to see for sure - but the Muggle test was positive, yes. And it would explain how I’ve been feeling,’ she said. Severus nodded contemplatively and then sighed somewhat resignedly, half shrugging as he slumped against the back of the settee. She watched him silently for a moment, his expression fluctuating somewhere between bewilderment, joy, and frustration. In a small way this was quite comforting to Hermione, who had decided this was precisely how she felt. ‘If it’s not the timing, Severus, then what?’

He looked solemn. His lips tight shut as though he didn’t want his explanation to escape. 

‘Severus?’ she urged, sliding a comforting arm around his shoulder. ‘What’s the matter?’

He shook his head and looked down at his hand which rested in his lap. ‘Nothing,’ he said at length, in barely a whisper. ‘It’s good news, really.’ He finally looked up at her, but his smile still didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘I’d say so,’ Hermione said, squeezing his shoulders. ‘But you don’t seem convinced.’

He heaved a dry, humourless chuckle and attempted to smile again; a lopsided, half-grimace that belayed his continued uncertainty. ‘For two supposedly intelligent people, we’re quite stupid when it comes to contraception, aren’t we?’

If that was supposed to be a joke, Hermione thought it terribly ill-timed. But for some reason, she found herself laughing.

‘What are you laughing at?’ Severus said suddenly.

She studied him with a sigh. ‘I thought you were going to tell me everything was going to be alright. That I needn’t be worried because we were going to be fine…’

‘So you’re allowed to have reservations and I’m not?’ he asked, eyebrow customarily raised. 

‘Oh, don’t be petulant,’ she admonished, somewhat halfheartedly. She didn’t have the energy to argue with him. She was still feeling nauseous. 

He reached out and placed a hand on her thigh. ‘It’s just hard,’ he croaked. She wondered whether he was holding back tears and sincerely hoped he wasn’t that worried about it all. 

‘What is?’ she asked, intertwining her fingers in between his where they lay on her leg. 

‘The kids. I find it hard, you know?’

‘But you’re wonderful with them,’ she stated. ‘You must know that?’

He sighed loudly. ‘Before we had the twins I worried about money, where we were going to live, whether I’d be able to change their nappies or feed them right. All these practical things… I still worry about those things but I’ve learnt that between us - you and me - we’ll probably figure something out but…. but, don’t you get that feeling, just there’ - he paused, placing the palm of his hand at the foot of her sternum - ‘like a knot of constant worry? Cos’ it gnaws at me perpetually; are they alright? Are they ill, hungry, cold… happy… It exhausts me… makes me feel old. I am old. And I’m not sure my heart can take worrying about another one.’

She squeezed his hand. ‘Yeah,’ she whispered, ‘I get that feeling. Only my knot of worry also includes you.’

‘Well, I know I don’t need to worry about you,’ he said, returning the pressure on her hand so that they were now gripping one another almost uncomfortably tight. ‘You’ve always been able to look after yourself.’

‘Sometimes I like to be looked after, though,’ she whispered in return, resting her head on his shoulder.

‘Mm,’ he replied, ‘like now you mean?’

‘Precisely,’ she chuckled. ‘It sounds selfish, I know it does, but as pleased as I am about this - and I am pleased. I think it’ll be especially good for Isaac to have a younger brother or sister - I just can’t shake this feeling that it’s such bad timing. We put the twins in nursery, in part, to focus on our careers, I was just getting back into work and now I’m going to be taking another long break.’

Severus sighed pensively. ‘I think if we’re honest with ourselves we would never have planned this, would we? But we would never have planned the twins either and can you imagine your life without them now?’

‘No,’ Hermione said, smiling softly. ‘Or rather I can but it’s rather bleak.’

‘That’s what I reckon it’ll be like with this one,’ he said, nodding his head in the direction of Hermione’s stomach. ‘Right now we can think of all these reasons why it’s not the ideal time when we should be being grateful that at least this time we won’t have to uproot our entire lives, move halfway across the continent, and live in a dilapidated old house, with the prospect of my going to jail hanging over us.’

‘That is… uncharacteristically optimistic of you,’ Hermione said, snuggling into his side.

‘We will be fine,’ he said, turning her head with his fingers on her chin and kissing her soundly.

‘I know,’ she whispered in return, breaking away from him for just a moment, ‘I just needed to hear you say it.’

~oOo~

Hermione sat on the settee with Isaac huddled into her side, his head rested on her chest and his tiny hand flat against her stomach.

‘But how is there room in there?’ he asked, gently patting his palm against Hermione’s naval.

‘The baby is only tiny,’ Hermione explained, smiling softly, and holding a forefinger and thumb about an inch apart to show him. ‘Remember, you and Erin both fit in there at the same time.’

A little crease formed between his eyebrows as he looked up at his mother perplexed. ‘Is he on his own?’

‘Merlin!’ Severus suddenly sounded from across the room, looking at Isaac and Hermione over the top of his newspaper. ‘Let’s hope so!’

Hermione shook her head at him and turned back to Isaac, stroking his wayward black hair out of his eyes. ‘You keep saying “he.” It might be a little sister, you know?’

Isaac’s eyes widened with a slight panic. ‘No,’ he said definitively, sitting up straight and looking frantically between his parents. ‘Girls are too noisy.’

‘Whilst that isn’t untrue, I’m afraid we don’t get a choice,’ Severus then said, though now he hid behind his newspaper as he spoke. 

‘Well, boys are messier!’ Hermione said, issuing Severus a pointed glare which he just caught as he dared to peek around the edge of the paper to smirk at her. ‘We might be able to find out for sure today, anyway,’ she assured Isaac, checking the clock above the mantle piece. ‘Ginny’s late,’ she stated with a frown.

‘Mm,’ Severus murmured. ‘And so will we be if she doesn’t hurry up!’

Then, almost as though she’d heard him, the Floo flared green and a rather harassed looking Ginny stepped through it. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she began, dusting the soot off her robes briskly, ‘Harry got called into work for… something… again. I’ve got my mum watching my lot while I’m here and then we’ll all meet up back at The Burrow. How does an afternoon of gnome catching sound, Isaac?’

Isaac looked skeptical and remained silent. 

‘If you’re busy, Ginny, we can just take them with us,’ Hermione offered.

‘No, no! It’s no problem. Just a change of plan, that’s all,’ Ginny said. ‘They’ve been calling Harry into work on his days off much more frequently lately, and with the new baby and all, it’s just been… hectic! Mum’s helping though.’

‘Calling him into work a lot why?’ Severus asked, sitting forward on the settee and folding up the newspaper.

‘I don’t know,’ she said, sounding a little bitter. ‘He says its confidential, but when he says that I just know it must be some bad, or dangerous, because when it’s something trivial that’s happened, he always tells me, and then we usually have a good laugh about it. Anyway,’ she said, pausing for breath, ‘today is an exciting day. Shouldn’t you two be going?’

‘We should,’ Severus agreed, getting to his feet. ‘Where’s Erin got to?’

‘She was still deciding which doll to bring last time I saw her,’ Hermione said, standing also. She moved into the hallway and called up to Erin who emerged at the top of the stairs a moment later, her arms ladened with porcelain skinned, rosy cheeked, dolls with cold, staring eyes that sent shivers up Hermione’s spine. ‘Just one, Erin,’ Hermione said. This was not the first time she had had to say this. Erin looked momentarily thoughtful and then picked out one of the dolls with wavy brown hair not dissimilar to her own. ‘Come on then. Quick or else Aunt Ginny will leave without you!’

‘No!’ the child moaned, skipping down the remainder of the stairs and bounding into the living room where Ginny stood before the fireplace holding Isaac’s hand. Erin hurried to her other side and grabbed her spare hand. 

‘Just for the record,’ Ginny said, hauling the twins into the fireplace and relieving her grasp on Isaac to pick up a handful of Floo powder, ‘I think it’s a girl!’ and with that she dropped the powder into the grate and the three of them disappeared.

~oOo~

‘Mmm, smell that!’ Hermione said, shoving a book under Severus’s nose. ‘The smell of new books is the best smell in the world.’

'Yes. Thank you,’ Severus grumbled, swatting her away with a look of disdain. 

They were currently perusing the cramped and crooked aisles of Flourish and Blotts; Hermione’s happy place. Severus liked it too, though you might not guess it from his expression today. Hermione supposed he would merely prefer it if the book shop wasn’t somewhere so busy as Diagon Alley. They had already been forced to pose for a photograph with an eager American tourist who’d recognised them in Madam Malkins, and as always they were followed by stares wherever they went. 

Their morning had been spent at St. Mungo’s, on the maternity ward to be precise, where Hermione had undergone a scan and blood tests to make sure everything was well with the baby. They had been assured that it was healthy and that, indeed, there was only one of them in there, but as to its gender they were still none the wiser. It had been laid in an odd position, obscuring one’s view any tell-tale signs. The usual conversation of ‘I don’t mind what we have so long as it’s healthy,’ had passed between them. 

‘These are lovely editions,’ Hermione said, holding up two powder-blue, leather-bound copies of The Tales of Beedle the Bard back in the book shop. ‘They’re not cheap, though. You definitely think a copy each?’

‘Definitely,’ Severus replied tiredly, ‘I’d rather invest in preventing the arguments than dealing with the aftermath. It’s just the way it has to be until they learn to share.’

Hermione smiled. ‘And you agree with the Flitterby broom for Erin, and the potions set for Isaac?’

‘I think they both sound dangerous.’

‘That isn’t exactly disagreement. Is it the best I’m going to get?’

‘Anything but another one of those horrific dolls for Erin and I’m happy!’ he said, pulling down a heavy Potions volume off a high shelf and flicking through the pages. 

‘Hard to believe they’re four already,’ Hermione replied, examining an illustration from ‘The Fountain of Fair Fortune.’

‘Mm,’ Severus murmured, distracted by the book he was reading.

‘Yes. Goodness,’ an uncanny, sharp, voice suddenly sounded from behind where they stood. Hermione spun around quizzically and felt Severus stiffen by her side. A quick glance up at him suggested he recognised better than she did to whom that voice belonged. He looked up from his book and closed it slowly, then slid it back into place on the shelf before also turning to face their addresser. A twisted smile marred the hollow, sunken features of a familiar face. Grey eyes, framed by long, silvery hair glanced between the two of them. If it hadn’t been for the arrogant glint in those eyes, which had not diminished like the rest of his appearance, Hermione might never have recognised that it was Lucius Malfoy. ‘How time flies and how things change,’ he said, his sly grin revealing his neat teeth. ‘You both look so… well.’

‘Yes. We are well,’ Hermione replied stoically. Severus remained silent and fidgety beside her. ‘Have a good day,’ she added, nudging Severus towards the exit. They could come back and buy their books later. 

They’d taken perhaps a couple of steps passed Lucius when he continued the conversation as though there’d been no disruption. ‘Are you looking forward to your little party?’ he asked, turning to face them and smiling in a way that made Hermione to want physically hurt him.

Both she and Severus came to a halt. She was vaguely aware that Severus had taken hold of her sleeve in an apparent attempt to stop her from marching back across the cramped shop to where Lucius stood. She could tell he wanted to leave but Hermione wasn’t one to stand down to a bully. ‘What party?’ she asked derisively, unable to help herself from rising to Lucius’s bait. She unhooked herself from Severus’s grip and closed the distance between herself and Lucius. He was tall. Taller than Severus even, and thereby much, much taller than Hermione. 

‘If I’m not mistaken, it’s the ten year anniversary of your… victory coming up soon. I hear there’s to be a party at the school.’

‘You hankering for an invite?’ Hermione asked, scowling at him. She sensed Severus stiffening over by the door but he said nothing. 

Lucius scoffed. ‘I have a prior engagement, unfortunately,’ he said, twisting his gait to look at Severus. From where she stood, Hermione couldn’t tell what had passed between them but whatever it was made Severus shrink into himself. ‘In fact,’ Lucius said, turning back to Hermione, ‘it seems like you have nothing but things to celebrate of late!’ he gestured towards the slight mound of Hermione’s stomach and she felt herself bring a hand protectively over it. ‘I have to say, there is an admirable arrogance in your persistent procreation of filthy blooded offspring.’ He glanced over at the shop clerk to check he hadn’t been overheard.

Hermione, on the other hand, couldn’t quite believe what she’d just heard. No one spoke like that anymore. In fact, it was so long since Hermione had heard anyone talk like that, she’d forgotten how much it stung. She looked to Severus for support but found none to be forthcoming. ‘What did you just say?’ she stammered, addressing Lucius.

‘I congratulated you on your pregnancy,’ he replied, affecting nonchalance with a small shrug. 

‘You want to watch your mouth, Malfoy!’ she spat in return. 

He smiled that smile again and turned back to Severus, ‘you going to allow her talk to me like that?’

Severus’s jaw was clenched, the muscle dancing with tension, but refused to look at either of them now. 

‘Allow me?’ Hermione groaned.

‘This is what happens when you give Mudbloods even a sliver of liberation,’ Lucius continued undeterred, almost conversationally, ‘they get ideas above their station.’ He looked back at Severus as though expecting to find some sort of comradeship, like teenage boys who haven’t quite matured enough to appreciate the misogyny of their own humour. Whatever he was looking for he was disappointed anyway, because Severus still said nothing, although he was now looking at Hermione with a slightly pleading look in his eye. 

She shook her head in disbelief, in part at Lucius and in part at Severus, but there was something about Severus’s prolonged silence that was making her uneasy, unsure. She walked passed Lucius and over to the door where Severus waited for her. 

‘I’ll, err, see you soon then, Severus!’ Lucius called after them.

Glancing up at Severus, Hermione saw him screw his eyes up as if he were in pain, but he made no other response to Lucius’s words. He put his arm around Hermione’s shoulder and she only shook him off once they were out of Malfoy’s sight. He stopped walking with a sigh, but when Hermione continued without him she heard him quicken his pace behind her to catch up again. A part of her just wanted to go home, but a bigger part of her didn’t want to give Lucius the satisfaction of having ruined her day, so she led Severus into Duffin and Dobbins Delectables.

‘You can buy me a tea and scone,’ she told Severus as they sat down at a table. 

‘Right,’ he said, going back to the bar to order their lunch. By the time he returned a moment later carrying a tray laden with teapots and China cups, Hermione had had chance to gather her thoughts.

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ she asked, stirring a cube of sugar into her tea

‘What?’ Severus asked, though she suspected he knew full well what she was talking about.

‘Did you hear what he said about your children? About their “filthy blood?” And you just stood there and said nothing!’

He didn’t seem able to meet her gaze and instead focused his attentions on scooping up the froth of his coffee with his spoon, before patting it back down and smoothing over the top of it. A repetitive cycle that grew increasingly irritating the longer he remained silent. 

‘Severus?’ she persisted, her voice low. 

‘What did you want me to say?’ he asked, sounding agitated, if barely audible. 

Hermione frowned at him and leant in closer. ‘I wanted you to defend us, to tell him that what he was saying was despicable. Your silence practically condoned it.’

‘No it did not!’ he snapped. He fell silent again and then, inhaling deeply and holding his breath, he pressed his palms against the surface of the table and spread his fingers. His whole body bristled with a frantic energy, and Hermione could tell by the rigidity of his posture, and the way his jaw was still clenched, that it was taking every fibre of his being not to lose his temper and make an exhibition of himself. She felt herself retreat slightly into her chair, her fingers still wrapped around the mug as though it were some sort of shield. It wasn’t that he scared her, it was more that she felt out of control, and this was not a feeling she typically enjoyed under any circumstances. But then, as suddenly as it had begun, Severus relaxed his posture, exhaling that breath slowly and defiantly through his nose. He now looked solemn and suddenly old. Hermione recognised instantly the shadows in his eyes; haunting memories from long ago which he had not thought about in a very long time. 

‘Can we get the bill,’ he said briskly, addressing a passing waitress. ‘I want to go home,’ he added, turning back to Hermione. She frowned into her half-full cup of tea, but decided now wasn’t the time to push this. 

When the waitress returned with the bill, Severus dropped enough Galleons to cover it on the table without actually reading it and then stood to leave. He was outside the café before Hermione had even pulled on her coat. The walked in silence back to King’s Cross Station and remained so practically all the way back to Cokeworth. 

~oOo~

‘So we’re just carrying on as if nothing happened,’ Hermione said. She was explaining to Ginny what had happened with Lucius Malfoy in Flourish and Blotts. ‘When we got up the next morning Severus was behaving as though the whole thing had never happened.’

‘Haven’t you asked him about it since?’ Ginny asked, sipping a glass of fresh lemonade. It was only mid-April but the Spring weather was mild and so they sat in the Potter’s large back garden watching the children play on a rope swing tied to a large willow tree. Ginny bounced an eight-month-old Lily on her knee. 

Although not ostentatiously so, Harry and Ginny’s house was large. A three story Victorian terrace in the suburbs of London. The garden was similarly vast, reaching over a hundred metres from the back door to a docile canal at the bottom where friendly Muggles passed by on barges. 

‘It was just a bitter and twisted old man imagining he could intimidate us,’ Hermione said. She had almost convinced herself of this.

‘I take it you mean Lucius, not Severus,’ Ginny said with a wry grin. 

‘Of course!’ Hermione insisted, ‘I suppose I was just a little… disappointed that Severus didn’t jump to our defence.’

‘Maybe he just didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of the shop?’ Ginny suggested. ‘He’s not one for scenes is he? Severus I mean, not Lucius… Malfoys love any excuse to be the centre of attention.’

‘Well, not so much any more,’ Hermione said ponderously. ‘When do you ever hear anything about the Malfoys these days?’

‘They’re hanging their heads in shame,’ Ginny replied, ‘just as they should be after everything they’ve done. Not least what Lucius tried to do to Severus at his trial.’

‘Narcissa and Draco came through for him in the end,’ Hermione reminded her, ‘in their own way.’

‘I suppose,’ Ginny agreed, though she sounded reluctant to admit it, ‘but that doesn't right all that they did in the war.’

‘No,’ Hermione agreed. ‘Anyway, he hasn’t been right for weeks. Probably not really since I told him I was pregnant.’

‘I thought you said he was happy about that?’ 

‘I thought he was. He said he was, but… clearly there’s something the matter and that’s the only thing that’s changed.’

‘Then you know that’s something you’re going to have to talk to him about,’ Ginny said with a sympathetic smile. 

‘I know,’ Hermione agreed with a resigned sigh. ‘I know… anyway, enough about my boring life… what’s going on with you?’

‘Not much,’ Ginny replied with a stiff shrug. ‘Harry’s had to work a lot so we haven’t been up to much. That’s why I was so glad you could come down today, I’ve been bored witless,’ she said, covering Lily’s ears jokingly as the baby sat gurgling contentedly in her lap. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I love being with the kids, but all this maternity leave and so little adult conversation can begin to send you a stir crazy after a while! He’s even been working weekends!’

‘That’s no good and it’s the anniversary next Saturday though,’ Hermione said, ‘he has to be there for that. He’s the whole point of it.’

‘I’ve told him all this,’ Ginny said, ‘ten years is a big deal, but he says if he has to work, he has to work.’

‘Hmm… and you still think there’s something suspicious going on?’

Ginny looked thoughtful. ’When Harry is at home, people keep popping out of the Floo in his office and I’ve tried listening in on their conversations-’

‘Ginny!’ Hermione reproved.

‘I know,’ Ginny grinned mischievously, ‘but, I want to know.’

‘And what has your morally dubious eavesdropping revealed?’

‘Well… not much, except I think it might have something to do with some sort of group that’s been gathering. They kept talking about “the meeting place” and dates and times… there was mention of “ideology”, and… and Voldemort… I don’t know, that’s just the impression I came away with, that people were gathering and, at the very least, discussing Voldemort, or something to do with Voldemort. Not Death Eaters, but something like Death Eaters.’

Hermione frowned. ‘Like… neo-Death Eaters?’

Ginny looked aghast. ’Like I say… it was through a door so it wasn’t clear and it seems unlikely.’

‘Does it?’ Hermione enquired, looking over at Ginny with her eyebrows raised. ‘What’s to say that isn’t precisely what’s given Lucius Malfoy his newfound confidence?’

‘The Malfoys don’t have enough authority to gather anything anymore, let alone a new legion of Death Eaters or whatever.’

‘Mm,’ Hermione murmured, ‘let’s hope so.’

Ginny looked away and Hermione followed her gaze down the garden to where the children played at the water’s edge. 

~oOo~

When it wasn’t transporting school children to and from Hogwarts, The Hogwarts Express made stops at various wizarding train platforms up and down the country, carrying wizards and witches who preferred a more sedate and scenic method of transportation than Apparation. Manchester Piccadilly station, platform fifteen, provided one such stop, and it was here where Hermione, Severus, and the twins currently awaited the arrival of the train. Travelling by train was by far the easiest option when you had two young children and morning sickness to contend with; the other options were simply not worth the effort. 

‘It’s here!’ Isaac suddenly announced, pointing in the direction of the ruby red engine puffing its steam out into the blue-skied morning, so excited he began bouncing on the balls of feet. He’d talked non-stop about the prospect of riding on the train for the last two weeks. Severus grabbed his hand just in time to stop him steaming forward towards the edge of the track. 

As the train slowed to a stop and the carriage doors swung open, the little family clambered aboard and found their compartment, where Hermione quickly withdrew the colouring books and toys she’d brought along to keep Erin and Isaac occupied throughout the journey. 

‘I wish they were old enough to understand what was going on,’ Hermione said, nodding her head in the direction of the twins as they pulled out of the station and began passing a blur of green fields. ‘I mean, properly understand.’

‘They will one day,’ Severus said with a shrug. He maintained an ardent reticence regarding the children learning of his role in the War. He worried, Hermione thought unreasonably, that it would change their opinion of him. ‘By the next anniversary they’ll have learnt all about the War at school,’ he said, a little bitterly.

‘It’s your first time back at the school,’ Hermione observed. ‘How do you feel about that?’

‘I’ve thought about that a lot, actually’ he said. ‘There was a picture of the school in The Prophet the other day, you know that article about The Last Battle? It just looked like a building. Bricks and mortar. Like all the magic had drained out of it leaving behind this sort of hollow husk. It was depressing.’

‘Oh,’ Hermione replied, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, looking out of the window a little solemnly. ‘Me too, a bit. I think I’d been building it up in my head. I think I’d convinced myself that it’d be just like old times… very old times, when I couldn’t wait to get there. But if it ever meant anything to me, it doesn’t now. I ruined that in the last year of the War.’

‘You might feel differently once we get there, when you see it for real.’

‘Maybe… I just want this day to be over.’

Hermione smiled at him fondly. ‘I know you didn’t want to come today,’ she continued after a moment, ‘but I glad that you did. I think it’s important.’

‘I think you’re probably right,’ he replied, ‘though it doesn’t make me feel any better about it.’

~oOo~

‘Hermione! Severus!’ Minerva greeted them warmly the moment they stepped through the gates of the school grounds. ‘And look at you two!’ she said, turning her attention to Erin and Isaac. ‘You’re getting so big!’

Erin beamed proudly. ‘We’re four!’

‘I know!’ Minerva said, smiling. ‘Before you know it, you’ll be coming here to school!’

‘My Mummy and Daddy came to school here,’ Erin informed her.

‘Oh,’ Minerva said, ‘I remember it well!’ She turned to Hermione and Severus again, still smiling fondly. ‘I’m so glad you came,’ she told them, and then, more to Severus, ‘I wasn’t sure you would.’

He shrugged. His eyes scanning the castle perhaps a little fearfully, perhaps a little longingly.

‘Well, there’s food in the marquee - we’ve got some of the students helping out in there - and then we’ll have a little ceremony in about an hour, and there’ll be a charity Quidditch match later this afternoon,’ Minerva explained. 

‘Sounds great,’ Hermione replied. ‘Come on, shall we go get some cake?’

They made their ways across the lawn to the marquee, which was already abuzz with guests. 

‘I might just… go for a walk,’ Severus said, anxious within such a hive of people. ‘I’m fine,’ he continued in response to Hermione’s concerned expression, ‘my old stomping ground,’ he said, nodding his in the direction of the castle, ‘I’d like to have a look around, I think.’

Hermione nodded. ‘You know where we’ll be if you need us,’ she said, squeezing her hand. With a quick, self-conscious look around the marquee, Severus placed a soft kiss on the top of her head and made his way back out into the fresh air. 

Towards the end of the war, changing seasons had been of little concern to Severus, but the change of Spring into Summer had always been his favourite prior to that. The sun dappled castle walls, which cast their long shadow over the lawn and part way across the lake, surrounded by the green and purple hues of the Scottish wilderness at this time of year had always inspired in him a sense of peace he could only attribute to the seasons. Though, of course, there had been a certain melancholy to it also; the knowledge that the dawn of Summer meant he would be returning home soon. Now it stirred within him a strange nostalgia, not precisely a longing for the past, but something closer to the desire to acknowledge it, reconcile with it, and accept it as a part of him.

He pondered this conflict as he made his way through the throngs of guests, Ministry workers, alumni, civilians, current students in their black robes. He could not deny the satisfaction he felt at having had a part in their all being able to be there. He was a modest man, but it would be foolish to deny one of his greatest achievements, even if it was only to himself. Reaching the edge of the crowd he made his way up the slope of the lawn, running his hand lazily across the cool brickwork of the castle once he reached it. He followed the perimeter around to the main doors, where he hesitated. Perhaps, if the doors were open, it wouldn’t hurt to look in… he pushed his palm against the oak and the door swung inwards on its hinges.

‘-heard the rumours, Draco. There’s no solid evidence of anything. I’m tired of having this conversation with you.’ Severus heard a hurried voice almost immediately as he stepped into the shadowy chill of the entrance hall. It was almost instinctive, the slightness with which he moved towards the din.

‘My father’s word isn’t evidence?’

‘Has he seen them with his own eyes, Draco? Saved any of the correspondence they’ve had?’

‘Well… no, but I can tell you that they’re meeting today! They’re having their own memorial to the dead-’

‘-We need solid evidence, Malfoy, before the Wizengamot will let us go bashing down the doors of Muggle pubs.’

‘So you’re just going to wait until someone is hurt, or killed? Until they’ve recruited enough people to rise up? Is that the kind of evidence you’re waiting for? I think I’ve managed to convince my father to stay away, but for how long, I have no clue.’

‘He’ll be arrested right along with the rest of them if he does,’ Harry warned, ‘remind him that conspiring to bring about Pure Blood rule is still illegal - oh, Severus,’ Harry said, looking startled, though perhaps a little relieved that it wasn’t someone else, as Severus finally made himself known to them. Harry issued Draco a warning look and, with a quick nod of acknowledgement in Severus’s direction, the slim blonde sloped back down the corridor and out of the main doors.

‘Surprised he was invited,’ Severus said, watching Draco disappear before turning back to Harry.

Harry shrugged. ‘I wasn’t in charge of the invite list,’ he said simply, clearly insinuating that if he had, Draco wouldn’t have been on it. ‘I’ve just been to see Dumbledore’s portrait - I do that sometimes, of course you know that - and he followed me… did you hear what we were just talking about?’ 

‘Just like old times, me catching you and Draco sneaking about the castle,’ Severus smirked.

‘Such fond memories,’ Harry replied. Severus got the impression he wasn’t in the mood for a ribbing. 

An uncomfortable silence descended, until, unable to bear it any longer, Severus broke it. ‘I hadn’t realised things were so serious,’ he said, feigning nonchalance.

Harry looked consternated. ‘What things?’ he asked.

‘Your wife mentioned you’d been busy at work.’

‘Yeah, so?’

Severus shifted uncomfortably, his eyes falling on the main entrance door. ‘He’s right… Draco, I mean.’

‘Right about what?’ Harry demanded frustratedly. ‘Stop talking in riddles.’

‘He was telling you that a group has formed, a Death Eater revival, even though they’ll never really understand the gravity of that title. He’s telling the truth that they’re meeting today.’

Harry’s eyes narrowed. He chuckled darkly. ‘And how would you know about that?’ he asked, something sly about his tone.

Severus’s jaw clenched. ‘I was invited,’ he said.

~oOo~

She found Severus sat on a bench in the shadows of a semi-enclosed walkway between the main school and the greenhouses. Where an array of plants and herbs had broken free of the glassy confines of the greenhouses, they now spread across the roof, draping their foliage down the open side of the path which looked out over the school grounds towards the lake. The party was still in sight, but the din was more bearable here. Severus’s position offered a peripheral perspective, which Hermione couldn’t help but believe was intentional on his part, a reflection of how he felt. 

‘And how are you getting on?’ she asked, perching on the bench beside him.

‘Cake’s a bit dry,’ he said with a shrug.

Hermione chuckled. ‘Well, if that’s your only complaint then I’d call this whole thing a success. In fact…’ And with that she plucked the fork from his hand and helped herself to a bite the lemon drizzle. ‘This isn’t dry!’ she exclaimed, ‘just as I suspected, you’ve found nothing to complain about so you’re just making things up.’ Severus scowled in a manner that suggested he didn’t like that she could read him so well. Hermione studied him for a moment. ‘Minerva wondered whether perhaps you didn’t feel as though you ought to be here,’ she said carefully after a long pause. 

He stopped with a forkful of cake halfway to his mouth and then abandoned it altogether, depositing the plate on the floor beside the bench. He might have visibly paled but it was hard to tell in the warm, golden glow of the setting sun. ‘I was invited somewhere else today,’ he said. Hermione frowned at him confused. His response was so incongruent to the comment she’d made she wondered whether he’d heard her correctly. ‘You may as well know now because I’ve spoken to Harry about it. In fact, I imagine that’s why he’s gone off.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Hermione enquired. ‘Ginny is so angry with him.’

Severus sniffed and looked out over the grass to where Erin and Isaac were laughing at the giant squid as some of the students were coaxing it to do a sort of dance with its tentacles. ‘We’re not the only ones marking the anniversary,’ he replied at length. ‘The… other side have seen reason to… celebrate as well. I was invited to their gathering also,’ he explained, then, in a tone of unnecessary derision added; ‘perhaps Minerva feels I would have found a greater sense of belonging had I joined them?’

Hermione felt something clench within her chest and something like a shutter come down in her mind. There were a million questions in there, vying for prominence, clambering to be asked, but she found she didn’t have the heart to learn the answers to them. She felt a little disgusted. Not at Severus, precisely, just at the notion of his having been in touch with the so-called Death Eaters, and perhaps a little at him not having told her about it. She chose to remain silent on the matter, and so they sat on the bench, not speaking and unmoving.

‘You don’t have anything to say about that?’ Severus asked after a moment.

Before replying Hermione smiled to acknowledge a group of passing students, who blushed and giggled at having seen two characters from their history books up close. ‘Not here,’ she replied eventually, having waited for them to get out of earshot. ‘The party’s coming to an end anyway. Let’s just say goodbye to Minerva and we can get home.’

He sniffed again, looking out over the expanse of grass before them. Hermione watched him expectantly. ‘I did feel something,’ he said at length, ‘when I saw the castle. It all came… screaming back to me.’

‘Bad feelings?’

‘Mixed feelings… I might have a walk down to The Shrieking Shack while you say goodbye to people.’

‘Oh, you… you think that’s a good idea?’

‘I just don’t know.’

‘Well, if you feel you need it we can meet you at the station in half an hour?’

He reached over and squeezed Hermione’s hand thankfully, and then stood and began moving across the lawn. Hermione watched him go for a moment, heading in the direction of the winged boar-flanked gates, and then stood herself to collect the children and bid farewell to her old teachers and the last stragglers of the party.

~oOo~

They sat across from one another in the train compartment, Isaac asleep on Severus’s lap and Erin with her face pressed up against the window, distracted by the city lights that whizzed passed. Severus looked out of the window too until Hermione caught his attention by gently nudging his foot under the table.

‘You know that… of course you belonged there today,’ she told him, whispering so as not to attract Erin’s attention or wake Isaac. ‘If it wasn’t for you, none of us might have been there.’

‘Mmm… you know, some of them,’ he said, and she knew he meant the Death Eaters, ‘still consider me a “hero,” just like you fools do.’

‘They do?’

‘Oh yes. According to their letters they think I’ve outsmarted The Ministry, that my being with you, having children with you, attending the official anniversary celebrations and fraternising with Harry Potter of all people, are all a huge ploy to trick The Ministry into sparing me from Azkaban.’

For a fleeting moment, that she would never admit to Severus, Hermione wondered whether this might be true, but she immediately dismissed the thought as ridiculous when she saw Severus’s expression of distaste. ‘Well that’s ridiculous,’ she said definitely, scoffing slightly for added emphasis. 

Severus studied her, or at least she could feel his eyes on her; she was determinedly avoiding his gaze, pretending there was something interesting beyond the fields they were now passing. ‘It is,’ he murmured after a moment. 

‘How was The Shack?’ she asked then, keen to change the subject. She wanted, no, needed to know more about this business with the Death Eaters, but now didn’t feel appropriate. 

‘Not a good idea,’ Severus replied, shaking his head. ‘I could…’ he lowered his voice as he continued, and pointed to his neck where Hermione knew, beneath his collar, lay the scars of Nagini’s attack. ‘I could feel it again,’ he said. 

‘Feel what, daddy?’ Erin suddenly asked, pulling her forehead away from the window and turning to him inquisitively. 

‘Nothing,’ he said quickly. 

‘But feel what?’ she insisted.

Severus looked at Hermione pleadingly. ‘Erin,’ she said, turning to her daughter beside her. ‘Would you like to colour? Or play with your doll?’

The girl pouted at Severus, then took the doll her mother offered her from her bag and began pretending she was combing her hair.

‘A day will come when they have to be told,’ Hermione said reasonably, turning back to Severus now Erin was suitably distracted. 

‘Yes, but today is not that day,’ he replied bitterly. ‘Nor will any day soon, I hope. The longer they don’t know the truth, the better.’

~oOo~

‘Can I ask you something?’ Hermione said, later that night, deciding, for reasons unknown to even herself, that now seemed like a good time to broach the subject of the Death Eaters again. They lay on their backs in bed, the warm orange glow of the street lights beyond the curtains the only illumination. Apparently ignorance in regards to this was not bliss; it was keeping her awake. 

‘You,’ Severus replied sleepily. This was his automatic answer to the question she asked him every night: what it was he was grateful for that day. 

‘No,’ Hermione said, turning onto her side. ‘Not that.’ In the dim light she saw him open his eyes, but he did little else to acknowledge her. She bit her lip. ‘Were… were you tempted?’ she asked, ‘to join the Death Eaters?’

He closed his eyes again. ‘Of course not,’ he said tersely. 

She could sense he was getting annoyed but something inside her wouldn’t let her stop prodding. Would she ever learn? ‘Oh… good. The whole thing makes me feel a bit weird.’

‘Makes you feel weird about me?’ he asked, and she felt his body tense as though he was expecting to receive the answer like a physical blow. 

‘No - well, not exactly. Although, I suppose I don’t like being reminded that you were a Death Eater - I just… the idea that anyone could still subscribe to Voldemort’s ideology after everything we went through it’s… it’s terrifying!’

He sat up suddenly and switched on the bedside lamp. ‘You’re not worried?’

‘What? No, if you say you weren’t tempted to meet with the Death Eaters then I believe you-’

‘-No. I mean in general,’ he snapped, clearly wishing she’d stop mentioning him in the same sentence as the Death Eaters. 

She swallowed hard and thought about it. She remembered how it had felt the first time she’d been called a Mudblood. She’d read about it before that, of course. She knew that was a word used to describe witches and wizards of Muggle parentage, and she knew all that the word connoted. But to hear it directed at her for the first time had still struck the wind out of her: ‘filthy little Mudblood.’ It was just a word, she had reasoned with herself her whole life, but still it was capable of filling her with a cold dread. After that first time the word had drifted around her head at night in bed, a ghostlike chant. Dirty blood. One could start believing those things if one heard them often enough. She’d never really told anyone how it had made her feel. She was supposed to be intelligent, and intelligent people didn’t let words get them like that.

‘Hermione… don’t,’ she heard Severus say. 

He reached out and his fingers brushed her hand, which she realised she was using to stroke the silvery scar on her wrist. Her constant reminder. She looked down at her forearm, lying limply on the bedside with Severus’s left arm, his pinkish Dark Mark scar beside it in a warped juxtaposition. Now she thought about it there was actually something quite satisfying about seeing those two marks side-by-side. They weren’t supposed to be side-by-side. They weren’t supposed to live in harmony and yet here Severus and she were.

‘If you are worried,’ Severus continued, taking her hand, ‘there’s no need to be. You know I would never let anything happen to you, or the kids, for that matter.’

‘I know,’ she replied at length. ‘It’s just…’

‘I know,’ he said, shifting closer to her in the bed. Her baby bump pressed against his stomach. ‘How dare they! After everything, how dare they try this again!’

‘Yeah,’ she croaked. ‘It’s not… fair.’ She sounded petulant and felt embarrassed. ‘After everything we went through last time, it doesn’t seem fair that they could do this to us. We won…’

‘The Aurors are dealing with it,’ he said matter of factly.

‘Are they? How do you know?’

‘Potter said. I think Lucius might have had an invite too - I suppose they want to recruit some of the old crowd for advice or… whatever, I don’t know. Anyway, Draco found out and he’s been trying to convince the Aurors to take it more seriously, but with only third hand information there wasn’t a lot they could do. Lucius himself is apparently denying all knowledge.’

‘Now they have first hand information?’

He nodded. ‘I’ve told them what I know. I know they were meeting today, although I don’t know where or when. I never replied to any of the letters they sent me, in fact, I burnt them practically as soon as I’d read them and I think they were reluctant to share too much information with me if they weren’t absolutely sure I was cooperating. I think Potter was a bit annoyed at me actually, for not saying something sooner.’

‘Oh, God,’ was all Hermione could manage to say. She had an overwhelming feeling of becoming embroiled in something much bigger than herself and she felt momentarily as though she were drowning. The tranquility and steadiness of their lives, which they had worked so hard to establish, was being unsettled, and numerous and various ways, and it left her feeling slightly panicked. ‘I don’t like that you’ve started keeping secrets,’ she told him.

‘Me either,’ he agreed, ‘but I got the invitation right around the time you told me you were pregnant and we were so happy, I didn’t want to ruin that by telling you about something I didn’t think mattered.’

Hermione sighed, which turned into a yawn. ‘Such a mess,’ she said, snuggling into her pillow. 

‘Maybe, but it’s got nothing to do with us now.’

~oOo~

By mid-August Hermione’s maternity leave had begun, and with the twins off school for the summer holidays their days were spent with strolls along the canal, trips to the park, lunch and ice cream in little villages in the Peak District, and building dens so there was somewhere shady to sit in the back garden. It was the last few weeks they would have together just the four of them and whilst the imminent arrival of the baby was something they were all looking forward to - the children growing particularly impatient as the due date neared - there was a sense that this time should be well spent, quality family time. Indeed, it was on one such day, as the four of them stood in the living room, double checking they had everything they needed for a picnic, that the Floo suddenly flared green and Harry emerged into their midst. 

‘Harry!’ Hermione greeted him with no little surprise. ‘We weren’t expecting you.’

‘Hi, Uncle Harry!’ the twins said in chorus, Erin running forwards to wrap her arms around his legs.

‘Hey guys,’ he said, patting her on the top of her head. There was something about the hastiness with which he did this that suggested he wasn’t here on a social visit.

‘Has something happened?’ Hermione asked. They hadn’t heard anything from Harry, at least not regarding what had happened at the anniversary, since then.

‘No,’ Harry assured her, his gaze flicking to Severus for just the briefest of moments. ‘I do need a word though.’

‘Well, sit down. I’ll put the kettle on,’ Hermione offered. ‘We were just off out, but there’s no hurry really.’

‘Actually,’ Harry said, sounding serious and waving a dismissive hand. ‘I need to speak to Severus alone,’ he explained, looking uncomfortable and a little apologetic.

‘Oh,’ Hermione said, puzzled. ‘Well… maybe I can take the kids to the park, or something?’ The twins were stood by the picnic basket, looking silently between their parents and their Uncle Harry.

Severus was about to tell her not to bother, to maybe just wait upstairs, or take the children out the garden. Inexplicably he wanted her close, whatever Potter had to say to him. But Harry was faster. ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘We won’t be too long though, I hope,’ he added, with a quick glance in Severus’s direction.

‘Ow, but what about the picnic?’ Erin complained.

‘We’ll take the picnic the park,’ Hermione suggested, hoping to assuage a tantrum before it had even begun.

‘What about Daddy?’

‘Maybe Daddy will come and find us once him and Uncle Harry have finished talking!’ she said, looking at Severus for confirmation.

‘Yeah,’ he replied, ‘go on now, and behave for your mum.’ He kissed both children on the head as Hermione ushered them towards the door.

‘See you in a bit then,’ she said to both Severus and Harry as she went. As she moved out of the room she let her fingers slide over Severus’s forearm, and he could still feel their trail long after she had gone.

‘What is it?’ Severus asked impatiently, once Hermione had left, closing the living room door behind her. 

Harry waited a moment, tilting his head in a way which suggested he was waiting until Hermione and rallied the twins and left the house for certain before he said whatever he was here to say. Only when they’d heard the front door click shut and their voices receding down the street - with Harry peering through the window to be sure - did he eventually speak.

‘I’m sorry to call on you like this, Severus. But I’m here on behalf of the Minister… There’s something he would like me to ask of you.’

‘Did you tell him if there’s something he wants he’d be better off asking me himself rather than sending you?’

‘As a matter of fact, I did,’ Harry said with a fleeting smirk. Severus schooled his features and met Harry’s gaze. It had been a long time since he’d practiced Legilimens but Potter had always been an easy target. ‘Oi! I know what you’re doing! Stop it!’ Harry complained, dodging out of Severus’s eye line. 

‘You’d make a far more effective Auror if you’d ever bothered to learn Occlumency,’ Severus said, bored sounding. ‘Shacklebolt wants me to accept an invite to one of these gatherings of Death Eaters, or whatever they are, does he?’

Harry sighed and fell onto the settee. ‘They’re proving impossible to penetrate - we intercept letters but their all written in code - we can’t figure out where and when they’re meeting. Lucius is under watch but we reckon they’ve given up on him as a bad job. Now it has been proposed that perhaps you would be the best person to… infiltrate them, considering how they seem to want you amongst them in the first place.’

Severus felt the edge of his mouth curl into an incredulous smile. A hollow chuckle escaped him. ‘You’re asking me to spy?’

‘I… I hadn’t thought of it exactly like that,’ Harry said. Severus pushed down the familiar, though ugly, pleasure he experienced at seeing the boy squirm. ‘But… essentially yes, that’s what they’re asking of you. You are quite skilled in that field, to be fair.’

‘There’s something audacious, don’t you think, about The Ministry asking this of me after everything they put me through?’

‘To an extent,’ Harry replied, cautiously. ‘Although, perhaps it shows that they really do trust you.’

‘Mmm… perhaps,’ Severus said, unconvinced. He sat down beside Harry with a sigh. ‘It’s really serious then?’

Harry nodded. ‘There’s been graffiti popping up in Diagon Alley - vile stuff just in time for the Muggleborns and their parents to visit to pick up school supplies. Minerva’s already had three Muggleborns withdraw their place from Hogwarts. There’s been reports of intimidation, verbal abuse, mild hexing… an attempted kidnapping… small stuff, relatively, but-’

‘-But that’s how it starts,’ Severus said, nodding knowingly. 

‘Precisely. So..?’

~oOo~

‘And… what did you tell him?’ Hermione asked, later that evening, once Harry had left and Severus had told her what they’d discussed. She leant coolly against the old brick outhouse in the garden, an absent minded hand stroking the her stomach as she watched Severus harvest the freshest crop of Snowdonia Hawkweed from his little raised flowerbed.

‘I said yes,’ he responded, getting to his feet with an aching groan, surveying the flowerbed and dusting soil from his hands. There was a long silence and it took him a moment to realise that Hermione was looking at him oddly. A half smile on her face as though she wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. ‘What?’ he asked, half smiling unsurely in return. 

Her expression slipped and she now looked at him somewhat incredulously. ‘You said yes?’

‘Course I did.’

‘Oh… right,’ she said in a small voice. She looked perhaps as though she was holding back tears; chewing her bottom lip and frowning.

‘You think I should have said “no”?’

‘Yes! No! Well… I don’t know.’ She hung her head, shaking it slightly. ‘It’s so dangerous.’

Severus moved closer to her, placing both his hands on her shoulders. ‘I just have to write to them, build rapport… find out when the next meeting it. I might have to go along to that, but Harry assured me it’ll just be the once. Nothing bad is going to happen,’ he said. He had wanted to sound reassuring but realised the words sounded trivial, almost as though he was telling her “don’t be silly”.

‘You can’t promise that,’ she said, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were welling with tears. ‘You came this close’ - her fingers held an inch apart - ‘to missing out on the kids growing up once before. Why would you want to risk it all again?’

He sighed. ‘Don’t you see that’s precisely why I have to do it? If we don’t act now the kids - our kids - will be growing up in a world where their heritage makes them practically worthless. You heard what Lucius said about their “dirty blood”, and you don’t think that was him singling out our kids? If I do this, make them think I’m on their side, we can nip this in the bud before its even really started.’

She shook her head an wiped a tear that had fallen down her cheek away with the heel of her hand. ‘You must do whatever you feel is necessary, but I can’t condone this. How could I live with myself if I agreed to this and something were to happen to you? How could I explain to that to the children?’

‘You’d tell them I died trying to make sure the world was a better place for them to grow up in.’

‘You’ve done your bit, Severus. It’s someone else’s turn now. You said yourself, this is nothing to do with us.’

‘Potter says they can’t do this without me.’

‘Is that what Dumbledore used to tell you too?’

He stiffened and pulled away from her, overwhelmed by a sudden fury. He withdrew from her and turned away dismissively. He wasn’t sure why her question had caused such a stab of fury, perhaps the insinuation that he was weak, or perhaps the fact that it was precisely what Dumbledore had used to say to him. 

‘I’m sorry, Severus,’ she whispered, reaching out for him, to which he responded by twisting he body out of her reach. ‘No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’

He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said with a slight shrug. ‘I’ve made up mind. I have to do this and obviously I’d appreciate your support but… either way…’

This was a followed by a long moment of silence in which he didn’t dare look at her. ‘It’s only because I love you so much,’ she said eventually, he voice shaky but determined.

‘Same,’ he said, returning to his gardening. 

~oOo~

A letter had arrived, Severus’s written on the envelope in what had quickly become a familiar handwriting. Hermione didn’t know precisely to whom it belonged, but she knew it belonged it one of them. Two or three of these letters arrived everyday, and just as many, if not more, were sent from Severus to whomever this was from. 

‘That should do it,’ Severus announced, coming into the kitchen where Hermione was feeding the delivery owl bits of cold ham from the fridge.

‘What should?’ she asked.

‘The protective wards,’ he explained, a little shortly. ‘We’ll be alerted if anyone… undesirable comes within a mile of the place.’

‘Right,’ she said. ‘This just came.’

She handed him the letter which he made to open before apparently thinking better of it and tucking the envelope in the back pocket of his jeans. Not only did she not know who these letters were from, she also had no idea of their contents. Severus had become increasingly secretive over the last week or so since he’d told Harry he would act as spy. He stayed up late, rose early, and attended meetings at the Ministry he was forbidden from telling her anything about. 

‘Don’t let that bird leave,’ he said, shifting towards the doorway. ‘It won’t take me long to reply to this.’

‘OK,’ she said, attempting a smile which faltered almost instantly. 

With a small sigh he closed the space between them and kissed her on top of the head, then turned and left the room. Hermione watched him disappear into the dining room, closing the door behind himself with definite click. 

~oOo~  
He sat down at the dining room table - which he had been using as an office of sorts ever since he’d agreed to help The Ministry - and swallowed the tangle of anxiety which rested in his chest. As awful as it had been during the war, there had been an undeniable thrill in the secrecy and danger of it all, but now, a little older and a little wiser, the secrecy and danger evoked little but panic. He knew what this letter contained: the place, date and time of a gathering.

It had begun with Severus simply replying to the person who had sent him the first invite. Initially, he had ignored the first invite altogether and so had half expected to receive no reply, however, not even a day later, an eager, adulatory even, response had arrived strapped to the leg of a tawny owl. Severus got the impression that it had been written by someone young and keen to impress. Someone who reminded Severus a lot of himself when he’d been in his early, post-school years, writing to Lucius.

He peeled back the wax seal and took out the small sheet of parchment within: The Hanged Man, September Equinox, Witching Hour. Severus frowned and shook his head gently. There was something embarrassingly juvenile about corresponding in code, indeed, this whole thing had begun to feel like children merely playing at being Death Eaters.

But, it didn’t matter. He didn’t have to like these people. They didn’t even really need to like him. They seemed eager for him to join them regardless of his late replies and constant stalling whilst, although unbeknownst to them, he updated Harry and his team on their discussion. 

‘Very convincing,’ Harry had said when Severus had shown him the first letter he’d sent in reply. He folded it neatly, running a finger and thumb sharply down each seam. ‘Are you sure you’re faking it?’ he asked, a raised eyebrow all that told Severus this was an, albeit distasteful, joke. Harry had certainly been annoyed at Severus for not telling them what he knew sooner, and embarrassing him in front of the other Aurors was his little revenge.

Severus glanced at Harry’s colleagues, who shifted uncomfortably behind their boss, pretending they weren’t all-ears, waiting for Severus’s reply. Harry broke the silence with a small chuckle and handed Severus the letter back. ‘Send it,’ he said at length, ‘and lighten up.’

Severus had scowled and Apparated directly back home, where the tawny owl awaited.

And thus, things had developed. The first letter, a quick reply, rapport building, trust establishing… lies. It was slow, laborious, tiring, but eventually he convinced them that he was apparently serious about this: that it had merely taken him a long time to decide because there was so much to consider.

Now, if everything went to plan, then by the end of the summer this whole thing would be over. Over before it had even begun. If everything went to plan.

He had wondered whether there wasn’t more to it, this personal insistence that he was necessary, nay essential, to the Auror’s plot. As Hermione had pointed out, if Severus did the ground work, gaining the group’s trust and finding out when one of their meetings would be, then surely the Aurors could deal with this from there on their own. There was no real need for Severus to be anywhere near the meeting himself. It was true, Severus thought, all true. 

No, maybe this had more to do with Severus’s needs rather than protecting a future. Maybe he was bored of the domesticity. He hadn’t thought so, but perhaps subconsciously that was true. During his years and spy and a fugitive he had longed for the type of tranquility family life might offer, but the grass was always greener, he thought wryly. Maybe, despite his current anxiety, he missed the excitement and danger? The glory? No, not that. It didn’t matter what was motivating him now anyway, he was in too deep. 

He shook his head and got to his feet. Moving to the old cabinet in the corner of the room he pulled out two sheets of parchment and flattened them out on the table. On the first he wrote he response to the invite, stating simply that he would be there, and the other he addressed to Harry. Plans would need to be made now. Dangerous plans. A more sedentary life than he’d lead during the war had left Severus out of shape, and unpracticed in defensive magic - not that he would need it, Harry had assured him (and he, in turn, had assured Hermione) - but still, he didn’t like the feeling of vulnerability that plagued him whenever he thought of attending this meeting, despite the fact that there would be practically an army of Aurors right there with him. 

~oOo~

Hermione guided Severus’s hand to where the baby was kicking and watched as a small smiled spread across his lips. ‘It has Erin’s temperament,’ she told him, ‘it squirms about all day like that. Isaac was always more placid.’

‘Three weeks?’

‘Three weeks, three days!’ she said, and then, remembering suddenly, she shifted her position so it was more awkward for him to have his hand rested on her stomach. ‘Say it,’ she spoke again after a long moment, her voice wavering slightly.

She heard him sniff, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. ‘You,’ he said, almost inaudibly, then, ‘go to sleep, and I’ll be back in the morning as though nothing has happened.’

‘How can I sleep, knowing you’re Merlin knows where fighting a pack of Death Eaters?’

‘They’re not Death Eaters,’ he told her, for the millionth time, she knew. ‘They’re just kids.’

‘Then why do you need to go at all?’ she asked, trying not to yawn. She was going to fall asleep despite herself, and he probably knew that as well as she did. 

He sighed and rolled towards her again so he could wrap his arms back around her. There was no way she was going to protest. His mere closeness was always a comfort.

‘You know why,’ he whispered into her ear, ‘to make sure-’

‘To make sure there’s a safer world for the baby to grow up into. I know, I know!’

‘Then you understand.’

Hermione shrugged, feeling just a little bit justified in her petulance. ‘Just…’ she paused, rolling over so they were facing one another. She could smell the mint of his toothpaste. ‘Just be safe,’ she said at length, kissing him soundly. 

‘I will. Now sleep,’ he ordered, with one last peck on her forehead. 

~oOo~

‘Severus! Severus! Wake up!’ she said, jabbing him in the shoulder with her finger.

‘What?’ he said, snapping awake and switching on the light.

Hermione winced as another jolt of pain shot through her body, her hands gripping the bedsheets so tightly her knuckles turned white. ‘It’s coming!’ she managed through gritted teeth.

He took a moment to process what she had said. ’It can’t be,’ he then replied frantically, throwing the covers back and sitting up on his knees. ‘Three weeks, three days, you said! It’s too soon!’

She shot him a sharp glance. It was strange that she had forgotten this pain since her last labour. She’d promised herself “never again” and yet here she was. ‘Oh, I’ll tell it to wait then shall I?’ she snapped.

‘OK… OK,’ he replied, and she could tell he was panicking. ‘Err…’

‘Go fetch my - agh - my mum, to watch the kids!’

‘Right.’ He pulled on some jeans and a shirt which he buttoned up unevenly. Having made himself somewhat presentable he hesitated, looking down at Hermione on the bed with an expression she hadn’t seen him wear since they’d lived in Romania; a mingled look of worry and uselessness. ‘I-I might have something for the pain,’ he offered. Hermione shook her head, screwing up her eyes as another contraction ripped through her abdomen. ‘OK… I’ll be quick.’ And with that he disappeared downstairs. 

In his absence, time passed with confused irregularity. Hermione couldn’t have said whether he was gone for minutes or, perhaps, hours. The only thing that made sense was the quickening pace of her contractions, which were growing closer together at an alarming rate, much faster than they had when the twins had been born. During a brief lull between them her thoughts drifted to the twins asleep in the next room, and she hoped beyond hope that the noise wouldn’t wake them.

‘Hermione, darling, how are you doing?’ a voice said in the next moment, stroking back stray strands of damp hair from her face.

‘Mum,’ Hermione groaned, relieved. ‘This is not good!’ She tilted her head slightly to look at Severus, who lingered in the doorway, clearly unsure what to do for the best. ‘We don’t have time to get to St. Mungo’s. This baby is coming now!’

She saw him look at his watch, and her own eyes fell on the clock beside the bed. It was just passed two-thirty in the morning. She felt her heart sink - he was already late to meet Harry and the other Aurors - but in the next moment he was knelt on the floor beside the bed, taking her hand. He looked about to speak when she was wracked by another contraction, which stunned him into silence as she squeezed his hand with all her might.

‘Then we need an ambulance,’ Georgia said. Severus looked up at her vaguely appalled. Muggle medicine, indeed Muggle anything, he was not fond of. ‘What?’ Georgia asked, unable to read his expression.

‘Can’t we manage?’ he asked, ‘I have some potions and things and… well, you’re medically trained aren’t you?’

Georgia smiled down at him. ‘Yes, Severus,’ she said, ‘but in dentistry. This is really rather the wrong end!’

‘The twins were - oof - born in a Muggle hospital, Severus,’ Hermione managed. ‘And they turned out fine. In fact, everyone here was born in a - ouch - Muggle hospital!’

Severus took one more moment to look disdainful and then issued a reluctant, ‘fine.’

Georgia nodded approvingly and was attempting to find her mobile phone in her handbag when a sudden confusion of light burst into the room; something silvery, ghost like swirled about their heads for a moment before adopting the visage of a stag, which reared by the bedroom window.

‘Oh my!’ Hermione heard Georgia gasp, her handbag dropping to the floor. 

‘Where are you?’ the stag demanded in Harry’s voice, undoubtedly furious. Then it snorted, more animalistic now, and began to dissipate.

Severus looked between Hermione and the fading Patronus. 

‘You…’ - she paused, squeezing his hand and groaning until the latest contraction had passed - ‘you should go,’ she told him.

‘Go?’ Georgia questioned, but Hermione silenced her with a look that said everything was fine.

‘No,’ Severus said after a short moment of deliberation. ‘No, I can’t leave you!’

‘But-’

‘It was supposed to be all over by the time the baby came. I didn’t sign up for missing this!’

‘But - ow - the future - oof - the kids!’ she said, gesturing at her stomach.

The future? The excitement? The danger? The glory? Severus wondered. It did not matter. Everything he needed was right here. It was enough. ’The Aurors will have to manage without me,’ he said firmly.

Hermione frowned and in different circumstances might have questioned him, but a pressure in her lower abdomen prevented it. She winced again as the pain grew almost unbearable but just managed to issue Severus a look she hoped conveyed her appreciation.

~oOo~

Nathaniel arrived five minutes before the paramedics. A healthy, screaming bundle of pink whose cries ricocheted about the house, waking his older siblings. Erin and Isaac had made their way tentatively into their parents bedroom and climbed up onto the bed as the paramedics checked mother and baby’s vitals before declaring all was well and going off on their way.

‘It’s a boy,’ Hermione explained to the twins, news which, surprisingly, they had both accepting with broad smiles. 

Then, throughout the day, there was an influx of well-wishing visitors; grandparents, neighbours, and old friends. When an owl had scratched at the bedroom window, where Hermione and Nathaniel were finally managing to sleep, Severus had whipped across the room to let it in. Whilst Nathaniel’s arrival had created a substantial distraction from the fact that Severus had not attended the meeting last night, now he was alone, and the house was quiet (Georgia having taken to the twins out for McDonalds), he’d had opportunity to dwell on the fact that last night he had betrayed two influential and powerful groups, who were bound not to take it lightly. Thus, the arrival of the owl set a peculiar chill through Severus’s core. Would it be from someone at the group, warning him of some impending reprisal? Was it from the Ministry, informing him that his absence amounted to little less than treason? That more innocent people had died because of him…

He silently reprimanded his own melodrama and, looking down at the sleeping, twitching Nathaniel, knew that he had made the right decision whatever the repercussions. 

‘Who’s it from?’ Hermione asked sleepily, lifting her head from the pillow and frowning quizzically in Severus’s direction. 

‘It’s for you,’ he said, handing it to her.

‘Oh, just Ginny,’ she said, peeling back the wax seal. Severus relaxed a little. ‘I sent a quick note earlier to tell her the baby had come. She and Harry are going to pop round this evening.’

He’s alive then, was Severus’s first thought. ‘Right,’ he said instead.

~oOo~

‘Sit down here like this,’ Hermione instructed, ‘let’s put a pillow here and then maybe Daddy could help, if he sits there and supports baby’s head.’

Erin sat with her back against the headboard, her arms out in front of her and a very serious expression on her face. She had been desperate to hold her new brother and finally her parents had acquiesced under the condition that be very, very sensible about it. Isaac sat on his knees, slightly off to her side, observing from a safe distance as Nathaniel was placed in her arms.

‘He’s so cute!’ she giggled.

‘But he’s not a toy,’ Severus reminded her.

‘I know that!’ she assured him, in a tone which suggested he was stupid.

This was followed by a sudden whooshing noise from the Floo downstairs and then quick footsteps across the wooden floor. Severus felt that chill through his body again and was quickly on his feet and out on the corridor, peering over the bannister. Hasty, official sounding footsteps. Numerous people. The Ministry wouldn’t just burst into your house through the Floo, he told himself.

‘Hermione? Severus?’ a voice bellowed from downstairs. Potter. Or apparently they would.

‘Up here,’ Hermione called, and the footsteps grew louder as they came up the stairs. Harry was in the lead but behind him, much to Severus’s relief, was Ginny, James and Albus. Harry shot Severus a strange look as they passed him on the corridor, somewhere in between strain and relief. 

‘This is my little brother!’ Severus heard Erin announce as the Potters entered the bedroom.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ he heard Ginny’s reply. 

He moved to the bedroom doorway and watched as the Potter clan loomed over Hermione and the baby. The kids all crowded round him and Ginny and Harry fussing and cooing. He let this go on for as long as he could stand it before reaching out and tapping Harry on the shoulder. ‘Potter,’ he said, in a low voice, careful not to disturb the rest of them. Harry turned and observed Severus’s gesture to follow him out of the room. Severus could feel Hermione’s eyes on them for a moment, but she was soon distracted by Ginny asking if she could hold Nathaniel.

‘I should apologise,’ Severus began slowly, once they’d shifted out of the room a little, ‘for backing out at the last minute. But…’ - he jerked his head in Hermione’s direction - ‘I couldn’t miss this again. I’m sure you can understand.’

‘Yeah,’ said Harry, chewing his lip and glancing back into the bedroom where everyone sat on the bed, taking it in turns to stroke Nathaniel’s head or kiss his forehead as he lay contentedly in Ginny’s arms. ‘I do… anyway, it was probably for the best.’

‘For the best?’ Severus questioned. 

‘Well - oh, Merlin… I think you’ve had a lucky escape! When you didn’t turn up everyone was pretty pissed, especially when you didn’t reply to the Patronus-’

‘-sorry.’

Harry waved a dismissive hand. ‘In the end, when we couldn’t wait any longer, we just went in without you. At first we thought we must have misunderstood the message or something, there was no one there, and then, all of sudden… they attacked,’ he paused, looking as though he was remembering something harrowing. ‘I haven’t see The Unforgiveables used in a long time, not even in my line of work, but they had no fear. They’ve made a mess. The whole pub is smashed up - I’ve still got men not he ground Obliviating the Muggle locals, and a few injured Aurors and “Death Eaters” in St. Mungo’s - no deaths, thank Merlin!’

Severus was horrified. ‘You think they knew it was set up?’

‘No,’ Harry said, ‘I think they were waiting for you, and you alone.’

‘You think they were going to attack me? I thought…’

‘They’ve admitted as much, now we’ve hauled them in for questioning,’ Harry explained. ‘They went after Lucius first. I think they thought he’d be easier to win over than you, and of course he was. They did a similar thing, made out like they revered him, that they were going to make him their leader or something, and obviously he couldn’t wait to get back in with a group of supposed Death Eaters. If Draco hadn’t managed to convince him to stay away…’

‘That certainly explains why he was acting so high and mighty when we bumped into him in Diagon Alley earlier in the year. He thought he was going to be hailed as the second coming!’ Severus said, shaking his head.

‘Quite possibly,’ Harry admitted. ‘They played up to his need to have his ego massaged, but in reality, they didn’t really want him to be their leader. They wanted to punish him for heresy in the War. Heretics have - had - no place in their new order. With Lucius a lost cause, I can only imagine how thrilled they were to eventually receive your letter; the jewel in the crown so to speak. No one betrayed Voldemort quite like you did.’

‘So…’ Severus balked. ‘So they were luring me to kill me?’

‘Kill? I don’t know. Certainly exact some type of punishment. Make an example of you.’

‘Merlin!’ Severus breathed. 

‘So you’ve had a lucky escape, I’d say,’ Harry said, smiling at last. ‘Baby came just at the right time.’

‘Yes… and…’

‘What?’

Severus shifted uncomfortably. ‘There won’t be any repercussions from The Ministry, about my not turning up?’ he said, his voice small. 

‘Definitely not! You did enough just gathering reconnaissance!’ Harry said, patting Severus’s shoulder in a jovial, familiar way, that made Severus muscles stiffen. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you… once again!’

Severus nodded, utterly relieved. In the absence of anxiety, he suddenly realised how tired he was. ‘Can you do me a favour then?’

‘Of course.’

‘Never ask me to be a part of anything like this again. I can’t say no and it drives Hermione crazy!’

Harry laughed. ‘Hopefully this will be the last time we ever have to worry about anything like this again.’

‘I shan’t hold my breath.’

~oOo~

‘What were you and Harry talking about earlier? And don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. When you were huddled in the corridor, whispering to each other?’

Renewed tranquility blanketed Spinner’s End. With him, Nathaniel had brought a sense of peace. The twins, burnt out from the excitement of the day, were fast asleep in the next room and Severus and Hermione sat on the bed in their own room, Nathaniel latched to Hermione’s breast as he fed. 

Severus sighed, stroking the top of the baby’s head with his thumb. He proceeded to tell her, perhaps omitting some of the perilous parts of the story, what Harry had told him.

Hermione nodded, an expression on her face which suggested she was refraining from telling him she’d told him so. ‘Two happy accidents in one day then,’ she said instead, looking down fondly at the baby.

‘So it would seem,’ Severus agreed, perching on the side of the bed beside her. ‘Harry-’

‘-Oh,’ Hermione interrupted him, ‘“Harry” now is it? Not “Potter”?’

Severus gave a small shrug and, smiling, took a now full and content Nathaniel from her. ‘If I call him Harry, and don’t look at him, I could almost forget he’s a Potter altogether.’

‘Right,’ Hermione chuckled. ‘Hey, now you’ve said that, actually, would it be pushing it too far to maybe use “Harry” as a middle name for this little fella’? You know, to repay the favour, so to speak.’

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes. He was perpetually unimpressed that Harry and Ginny had chosen to name their second son after him. ‘But we’re sticking with our choice of first name?’

‘Nathaniel Harry Snape,’ Hermione said, trying it for size. ‘Yes, I think so.’

Severus nodded appreciatively. ‘Nathaniel Harry Snape it is then.’

~oOo~ The Present ~oOo~

‘So, if it hadn’t been for you, Nate, arriving when you did, Merlin only knows what would have happened

Nathaniel looked thoughtful. ’So, really,’ he said, a broad grin spreading across his face. ‘Technically, I prevented a Third Wizarding War?’

‘Potentially,’ Hermione chuckled. ‘You could look at it that way!’

‘If I hadn’t arrived precisely when I did, which obviously I had total control over and planned down to the second, we might very well be facing another Voldemort right now!’ Nathaniel said, puffing out his chest a little and smirking.

Isaac rolled his eyes.

‘Like I said,’ Severus added, issuing Nathaniel a look which suggested the boy was getting a little ahead of himself, ‘melodramatic.’

‘No, no,’ Nathaniel persisted, ‘I’m just like Uncle Harry! The Chosen One! That’s really why you named me after him, isn’t it?’

‘You can’t both be The Chosen One,’ Isaac pointed out. 

Nathaniel frowned. ‘Whatever.’

‘My turn again then,’ Isaac said, snatching The Romanian Puzzle Box back from his brother.

‘No,’ Severus said, plucking it deftly from the elder boy’s hands. ‘My turn.’


	3. It Does Not Do Well To Dwell On Dreams

Severus allowed his fingers to file over the various objects within the Puzzle Box; more papers, something soft, a feather perhaps, photographs, and a smooth pebble. He stretched his arm a little deeper inside, almost up to the armpit, searching for the most curious object, when he felt a sharp stinging sensation in his finger and a strange, seeping warmth.

‘Ow,’ he winced, reflectively yanking his arm from the box, which fell onto the floor, emptying a few of its contents onto the carpet. Inspecting his right index finger he observed a short, but deep, gash running along the tip. Thick crimson blood bubbled from it at a rather alarming rate, flowing down his hand and onto the cuff of his white shirt. He gaped at it, momentarily dumbstruck.

Hermione was up at once. ‘Elevate it, Severus,’ she demanded, pulling him to his feet and beginning to lead him out of the room. ‘And don’t let it get on my carpets!’

‘Glad to see where your priorities lie!’ he muttered as he followed her into the kitchen where they kept the medical supplies.

Isaac and Nate watched worriedly as their parents left the room then turned their attention to the discarded Puzzle Box. While Nate gathered together the things that had fallen to the floor, Isaac carefully pulled out what must have cut Severus’s hand.

There were three small shards of glass deep in the bottom of the box. He lay them on the coffee table where, beside each other as they were, it was clear they had previously formed some sort of bottle. It was small and plain.

‘What is it?’ Nate asked, poking it with his own index finger.

‘Watch yourself,’ his brother advised. ‘It’s a bottle, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ Nate said, rolling his eyes. ‘I _mean_ , what do you think it was used for?’

Isaac shrugged.

‘A potion?’ Nate suggested.

‘It’s a bit fancy for a potion.’

‘Oh, I know! Dad used to work for Uncle Fiers, didn’t he? I bet it’s a perfume bottle.’

‘Maybe. They made thousands of perfumes together though. I wonder what makes this one so special, special enough to keep all these years?’

At that moment Hermione re-entered the room. ‘Dad’s fine,’ she said, a little flustered. ‘Gosh, that was a bit of a shock,’ she added, inspecting the carpet for blood splatter. ‘He’s just changing his shirt and I’m going to make us all some cocoa.’

‘Look mum, we found what must have cut his hand,’ Isaac said, indicating the broken bottle.

She stared at it without moving for a moment. ‘Oh,’ she said at length. Then, ‘oh,’ again. ‘I… err… I hadn’t realised that was in there actually…’ She took out her wand and with a quick flick the pieces floated into the air, rearranged themselves, and stuck back together. ‘Yes… of course,’ she mused. Both boys watched her concernedly for a few silent moments and then, her tone quite jovial again, she asked whether they wanted cookies with their cocoa and turned out of the room.

Just as she entered the hallway, Severus was returning downstairs, a clean jumper on and inspecting his bandaged finger with a pitiful expression on his face. ‘Severus, could I see you in the kitchen a sec?’ she asked just as the front door burst open and a stricken looking Erin came bouldering through it.

‘What’s the matter?’ Hermione asked her daughter.

‘Edgar’s a bastard,’ Erin replied, absolutely fuming.

‘What’s new?’ Isaac said, poking his head around from inside the living room. Hermione and Erin glared at him but Severus smirked until Hermione caught him and swatted his arm.

Severus moved down the last three stairs until he stood in front of Erin. ‘What’s he done?’ he asked, trying his best to sound concerned. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about Erin’s feelings, they’d just been here so many times before with one drama or another, usually always involving the boyfriend of the hour.

‘He’s been sleeping with Julia Smithy as well,’ she said, fat, angry tears spilling down her face.

‘Oh, Erin,’ Hermione said sympathetically, stepping forwards and helping Erin out of the travelling robes before wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

‘Sleeping?’ Severus repeated, incredulously. ‘As well?’ The inference that his daughter was sexually active was a little more than he could stomach after the accident with his finger. Hermione gave him a warning glance. ‘Sleeping?’ he mouthed again through gritted teeth, ignoring her. ‘I’ll kill him!’

‘Not if I get to him first!’ Erin snarled, kicking off her shoes. ‘He told me he loved me.’

This was too much for Isaac and Nate, who groaned and retired back to the comfort of the living room. Severus rolled his eyes but stifled a similar response.

‘Look,’ Hermione said gently, ’you’ve caught us at a good time, actually. We were just going to have a nice cup of cocoa and some cookies before we start looking through the memories again. We can have a proper chat about this when it’s less… raw. Why don’t you go get into your pyjamas and you can join us?’

Erin wiped her tears on her sleeve and nodded solemnly. ‘Yeah.’

‘Yeah,’ Hermione encouraged as Erin headed upstairs.

She waited until she heard Erin’s bedroom door close behind her before turning to head back to the kitchen, only to find Severus blocking her way.

‘What?’ she asked, nonchalantly.

‘What do you mean “what?” You know full well “what!”’ he whispered furiously. ‘Did you know about that?’

‘Ssh! Come in the kitchen,’ she said, dragging him in and closing the door behind them so they wouldn’t be overheard by Isaac and Nate. ‘Look, honestly, yes, I did know,’ she revealed.

‘Oh… and you’re OK with it?’

‘No, not particularly,’ she said, filling a pan with milk and placing it on the stove. She pulled down five large mismatched mugs from the cupboard. ‘But telling her that isn’t going to stop her doing it and I’d rather maintain open lines of communication.’

‘Pff! And you didn’t think to “maintain open lines of communication” with me?’

‘Well… she didn’t want you to know. It’s all a bit awkward, isn’t it, at that age. She’s seventeen. Why would she want her dad to know? You can’t blame her. And the important thing is that she’s being sensible and safe, which I can assure you she is.’

Severus simply didn’t know what to do with this information so he threw up his hands in defeat and slumped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. ‘Well… well… not under _my_ roof,’ he said, rather half-heartedly.

‘I’ve told her that.’

‘This isn’t good for my bad heart!’ he grumbled.

‘Do try not to worry,’ she beseeched him, ‘it’s all in hand.’ The milk was beginning to bubble as Hermione added the cocoa powder and began to stir it. ‘Anyway, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.’ Hermione explained about the odd little phial Isaac and Nate had found at the bottom of the Romanian Puzzle Box. ‘Is that a story you want to tell? It may do well for Erin hear a story of genuine love.’

Severus sighed. ‘Why are you so understanding about all that?’

‘You having loved Lily doesn’t detract from our love,’ she said, issuing him a warm smile. ‘You told me that once.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Then I’ll tell it.’

Hermione smiled at him as she arranged the cookies on a plate and placed the now full and steaming mugs on a tray. ‘Come on then.’

He followed behind her but as she went into the living room he saw Erin come down the stairs, turning around the end of the bannister to face him in the hallway. They looked at each other wordlessly for a moment and then he drew her into a warm embrace for a good, long time.

‘You’re squeezing me,’ she said after a while.

He released her and held her at arm’s length. ‘Sorry,’ he said softly, with a small smile. Look –‘

‘- Dad… I _know_ , alright?’

‘Yeah… yeah, of course. But, I _will_ kill him! Some things would be worth going back to Azkaban for.’

‘Thanks dad, that’s a lovely sentiment!’ she smirked, shaking her head.

‘Come on, let’s get back to everyone.’

They entered the living room where Hermione, Isaac, and Nate were already tucking into their cookies. Severus noted the phial on the coffee table and felt a strange jolt in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, but then, this was a story he hadn’t thought about in a long time.

‘You all know the story about my… friendship with Uncle Harry’s mum, Lily,’ he began, searching for the right words. ‘Well, this is how it ends…’

~oOo~ Six years earlier ~oOo~

A tapping on the window caused Severus to look up from his _Daily Prophet_. Two identical tawny owls carrying two identical letters for two very different children.

Hermione rewarded the owls with two bits of jammy toast and retrieved the letters from them. She placed one where Erin would sit for breakfast, and the other where Isaac would sit. The twins were still in bed, but were so excited for their long-awaited eleventh birthdays, that they were unlikely to be so for much longer.

‘It’s almost impossible to believe, isn’t it?’ Hermione asked him, sipping her coffee. ‘Eleven.’

‘Eleven,’ Severus agreed. He eyed each of the letters, inhaled deeply, and returned to his paper.

Footsteps on the stairs indicated the twins’, and Nate’s, arrival.

‘Are they here? Have they come yet?’ Erin asked as soon as she entered the kitchen. ‘Oh my! Can I open it.’

‘Of course you can! It’s addressed to you,’ Hermione said, beaming. ‘Go on then.’

Erin tore open the letter and read aloud: ‘”Dear Miss Snape, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” Finally! This is so exciting!’

‘Can I see? Can I see?’ Nate asked and Erin handed him the letter while she perused the reading and equipment lists.

‘Are you going to open yours, Isaac?’ Severus asked, nudging the letter towards his son who hadn’t even picked it up from the table.

Isaac shrugged. ‘It’s only going to say the same thing as Erin’s.’

‘Might not,’ Erin said, ‘might say you’ve _not_ been accepted.’ She stuck her tongue out at him.

‘I don’t care,’ he said, pushing the letter away.

Hermione and Severus shared a frowning glance. ‘Maybe we’ll open it after breakfast,’ Hermione suggested. ‘Birthday pancakes!’

‘Do I get pancakes even though it’s not my birthday?’ Nate asked.

‘You do,’ Hermione reassured him.

‘Do I?’ Severus asked.

‘Pancakes all round!’

‘And then presents?’ Erin asked.

‘If anyone’s bought you any,’ Severus said, grinning at her. There were, of course, two significant mounds of presents for the children in the living room.

~oOo~

Hermione had wanted to wait a few months, until the summer holidays, before they visited Diagon Alley to buy the necessary supplies. She had pointed out that if they went too soon, the twins would likely have outgrown their robes before they were even Sorted. It seemed like Erin might burst from anticipation, and even Isaac had managed to muster some enthusiasm at the prospect of some new books to read.

They’d visited _Flourish and Blott’s_ first, and then got quills, parchments, and cauldrons. They’d decided to allow the children an owl between them as, as Hermione kept reminding them, ‘you must stay on regular touch with us,’ and this seemed like the best way to bribe them to do so. Severus had had only mild complaints about the cost of everything and they’d treat the children to lunch at _Duffin and Dobbins Delectables_.

They currently sat in _Madam Malkin’s_ watching the twins being measured for their robes. Nate had been exhausted by the whole ordeal and was leaning, half-asleep against Severus’s side.

‘What’s your bet on what house they’ll be in?’ Hermione asked, watching as an enchanted measuring tape looped around Erin’s head. Isaac giggled as his inner arm length was taken.

‘Gryffindor and Slytherin,’ he replied, without a moment’s hesitation.

‘Mmm… but which is which?’

‘ _That_ I don’t know,’ he said, with some consternation.

~oOo~

A group of children, perhaps a little too old for the play park, had overtaken the monkey bars. Three sat atop it, their legs dangling between the gaps in the bars, and two sat on the ladder which you climbed up to reach said bars. It had been a long, hot summer, and, as children are often wont to be at the end of long, hot summers, the group were bored. They would likely never admit it, but they were looking forward to return of school in just over a week’s time. That is to say, some were more than others. 

‘Are you rich?’ the blonde-haired Emily asked, swinging upside down on the monkey bars, her pigtails dangling. ‘Aren’t boarding schools really expensive? They’re for rich people, like Royalty and Lords and stuff.’

‘Not this one,’ Erin replied. Her mother and father had rehearsed with them answers to practically every question they might be asked about their attending Hogwarts. Ever since Erin had written a story at Primary School about a school for witches and wizards that had had perhaps a little too much detail in it for your average seven-year-old, they had been preparing them to field questions like Emily’s. ‘It doesn’t cost money. There’s special entry requirements.’

‘Like a test?’

‘Sort of. And we passed it, didn’t we, Isaac?’

He shrugged. He really could be embarrassing sometimes, Erin thought. She wasn’t always inclined to allow him to hang around with her and her friends and she thought his current attitude a poor way of thanking her for the favour.

‘Shame you’re not coming to our school though,’ Dale said, turning to Isaac. ‘We could have walked there together. I’ll have go down Spinner’s End to get there. I’ll have to walk past your house every day and it’ll remind me of you!’ He pretended to cry. Isaac smirked and shook his head, but a thought had occurred to him; he couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to him before. He felt a prickle of excitement in his abdomen and suddenly very much wanted to go home and speak with his parents.

’It would have been so much fun,’ Emily agreed, hoisting herself back up to a sitting position. It was Erin’s turn to go upside down.

‘We’ll come back at Christmas,’ she said, feeling the blood rush to her head. ‘And we can write to you.’

‘Write?’ asked Zach, the other boy. ‘Just message online.’

‘There’s no internet,’ Isaac said sullenly. ‘It’s, like, medieval.’ 

‘No internet?’ Dale probed. ‘That’s really weird. You sure it’s a proper school?’

‘It’s just… traditional,’ Erin said, glaring at Isaac, feeling he’d said too much and was about the get them into muddy waters.

‘I’m bored,’ Emily said, jumping down from the monkey bars. ‘Hey, Erin, let’s go back to mine for a bit. We can make a collage of photos that you can take away to that weird school with you so you don’t’ forget me! No boys,’ she added, in case any of the others got the impression they were invited.

‘Whatever. Let’s go play Mario Kart at mine,’ Dale suggested.

As Erin went off with Emily, Isaac, his hands dug deep in his pockets, followed Dale and Zach back to Dale’s house. As they passed the end of Spinner’s End, though, he changed his mind and, bidding his friends goodbye, headed back home.

~oOo~

Severus had been gardening in the back for most of the day, sticky with sweat from the last of the day’s sun, when he was interrupted by his eldest son.

‘Hi, dad.’

Severus looked up to find Isaac slinking slowly across the garden towards him, hunched into himself the way he always was when he felt uncertain about something. ‘Hello,’ he replied, leaning against his rake. He knew better than to go at this directly. Isaac would tell him what was bothering him in own time; the two of them were very alike in that way. ‘Where’s your sister?’ Severus asked instead.

‘Over at Emily’s. It’s only five-thirty. It’s not after curfew.’

Severus nodded. ‘Mum’s gone to the supermarket to get something easy for tea. Pizza, I think.’

This, at least, elicited a small smile from the boy. ‘Erm… can I help?’ Isaac asked, nodding in the direction of the raised flower bed where Severus grew his stock of Snowdonia Hawkweed.

‘Of course,’ Severus replied, ‘here let me show you how to tie the stalks up. We need to start preparing them for the poly-tunnel, ready for winter.’ Severus showed Isaac how to position thin canes beside each plant and fasten each stalk to them with a small ligature. Isaac did a few of them while Severus continued to rake the fallen leaves and other deleterious from the lawn; a few crisp packets had blown in from the alley behind the house where everyone kept their dustbins, and one of their neighbours’ teenagers appeared to have been using the top corner of the garden, behind the shrubs, as an ashtray for their elicit cigarettes. When Severus looked back over at Isaac, he’d finished his work and was sat on the edge of the flowerbed, worrying at the end of one of the pieces of rope he’d been using so that the individual fibres frayed at the end. Severus approached him.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Isaac said.

‘You sound like your mother and you just did!’

Isaac continued to look solemn.

‘Go on then,’ Severus advised, propping the rake up against the shed and sitting beside his son.

‘I was thinking…’

‘Mmm?’

‘I was thinking that maybe I could go to Cokeworth Comp rather than Hogwarts?’

‘Absolutely not,’ Severus found himself saying before he’d even really thought about it. ‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re…’ Severus trailed off and lowered his voice, glancing around at the neighbours’ gardens to check they weren’t within earshot. ‘Because you’re a wizard, Isaac, and wizards go to wizarding schools.’

‘Except not always. I read it in _Hogwarts, A History_ -‘

‘-Now you _really_ sound like your mother!’

Isaac ignored him. ‘Some Muggle-born witches and wizards decide not to go. They just carry on at Muggle schools.’

‘You’re not Muggle-born. It’s a completely different situation.’

‘I don’t see how. You’ve been perfectly happy to send me to Muggle school up until now.’

‘Yes. To give you a normal life; a solid start in your education and so you had friends nearby.’

‘Friends that I now have to leave. _They’re_ all going to Cokeworth. It’s… it’s really hard to make friends.’

‘You’ll stay in touch with them and you’ll make new friends at Hogwarts, no problem.’

‘I don’t want new friends. I want to go to Muggle school with my Muggle friends and get a Muggle job. I want to be a dentist like Grandma and Grandad. They don’t accept NEWTs on dentistry courses,’ Isaac spat, his voice becoming raised.

‘Keep. It. Down!’ Severus demanded through gritted teeth. ‘Isaac, you need to learn how to control your magic.’ Whilst Erin was perhaps the most outwardly emotional of the two, Isaac’s tendency to keep his frustrations pent up meant he was the more likely to accidentally send objects flying across the room, send water flooding out of every tap in the house, or turn the milk sour, when he was upset or angry. ‘You won’t be able to have any kind of job if you can’t contain your magic, if you don’t know how to harness it properly’

‘How do those Muggle-borns harness their magic?’

‘They don’t know any different and anyway, it’s not just that. You’ll be left out of the magical community. Your sister and brother will become trained, all the Potter lot too, and you’ll be left behind. You won’t… fit in, and I think you’d regret it!’

‘I don’t “fit in” anyway and I won’t “fit in” at Hogwarts. I don’t want to go!’

‘It’s not open for negotiation,’ Severus concluded firmly.

‘You’ve not even discussed it with mum.’

‘There’s no point. She’ll only agree with me.’

‘It’s not fair!’ the boy groaned, throwing the bit of rope he’d be holding to the floor where it quickly caught fire and fizzled away like a fuse from one end to the other. Isaac immediately realised he’d done this in his temper, only proving his father’s point.

Severus looked from the charred remains of the rope to his son and didn’t need to say anything. Isaac huffed and stormed off into the house.

~oOo~

‘I had quite the conversation with Isaac earlier,’ Severus told Hermione later that evening as they got ready for bed, the children already asleep in their rooms.

‘Does that account for his sullenness all evening?’ she asked, eyeing Severus suspiciously as she smothered Muggle moisturiser on her face.

‘Oh, undoubtedly. He told me he doesn’t want to go to Hogwarts.’

Hermione stopped what she was doing and turned to him. ‘What? Why?’

‘He said he wants to go to Cokeworth Comprehensive with his friends and become a dentist when he’s older. I think he’s worried he won’t make friends at Hogwarts.’

‘Oh,’ she pondered, sitting back against the headboard of their bed and rubbing the excess cream into her hands. ‘I could tell he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect but I thought he was coming around to the idea after we’d been to Diagon Alley. What did you tell him?’

‘I told him it’s not an option.’

‘But you told him that _nicely_ , yes?’

‘I was quite firm, Hermione, because he’s going to Hogwarts whether he likes it or not and we both know that. He’ll be fine once he gets there, he’s just an anxious child.’

Hermione chewed her bottom lip. ‘Unless…’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘I don’t want him to be unhappy.’

‘He won’t be.’

‘He does struggle, Severus. We were so happy last year when he started hanging around with Dale and Zach. Proper friends. It took him a long time. I – we _both_ – know what it’s like to be bullied and feel like you don’t have people to turn to.’

‘He already has friends at Hogwarts. Potter’s lot are there and Erin will be there. We need to consider the bigger picture here.’

‘If I’d have told my parents I didn’t want to go to Hogwarts, if they’d have thought it would have made me happier to go to the local secondary school, they would have let me.’

‘We’re his parents, we know what’s best for him. The sooner he just accepts that he’s going the sooner he’ll realise it’s the best thing. You wouldn’t have known what you were missing if you’d gone to Muggle school. It’s a completely different situation. My dad didn’t want me going to Hogwarts. It was the best thing my mum ever did standing up to him on that one! Are you seriously telling me you’d consider sending Isaac to Cokeworth, which I will point out doesn’t even have a very good Ofsted rating, when the alternative is _Hogwarts_?’

‘Merlin! Why are you being so… dictatorial?’ she snapped, finally fed up with Severus’s tone. ‘For all your desperation to get to Hogwarts, you didn’t particularly have the best of times once you got there!’

‘But the benefits outweighed that! Anyway, we both know he’s going to Hogwarts and we both know that’s what’s best for him, so why pretend otherwise.’

Hermione sighed, conceding that this was, indeed, true. ‘I just think a gentler approach might useful,’ she said after a moment.

‘Well, feel free to try that with him tomorrow. I’ve said my piece. But he needs to know we’re both on the same page about this. If he suspects there’s a chink in the armour, a vulnerability, he’ll play on it. That’s the thing about him that makes me think he’ll be sorted into Slytherin!’ He spoke bluntly.

‘Would you please calm down!’ she implored. It was a while since she’d seen him quite so riled up about anything and it suggested that there was more to this than he was letting on. ‘What’s wrong?’

Severus groaned and sat back against the bed’s headboard with a thud. ‘I really _need_ him to not be stressing out about it, Hermione,’ Severus then said, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. ‘The two of them going off to Hogwarts is bad enough as it without adding to that the worry that they don’t want to be there. It _is_ the right thing for them to go.’ He sounded a bit less sure himself now. He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself, rather than Hermione or Isaac, that this was the best course of action.

‘Of course it is,’ she said calmly. ‘And I truly believe that Isaac will be fine once he’s there. But we can’t ask him to be fine for _our_ sake’s. If it isn’t genuine on his part, it’s meaningless anyway.’

‘I know,’ he agreed, lamely. ‘They’re going to be under enough pressure as it is just by nature of who they are, there’s no point pretending otherwise. _Really_ , I’d like them to stay here as much as Isaac probably wants to stay here. That way at least I know they’re safe, aren’t being bullied, already have friends and, well, here they’re in our little echo-chamber, aren’t they; they’ve been brought up believing I’m some hero, but not everyone at Hogwarts is going to think like that. And then what? What’s that going to mean for their opinion of me?‘

‘Severus, there is nothing those children could hear at school that is going to make them think any less of you. They adore you regardless of your past and we have the truth on our side.’

He remained looking unconvinced. ‘I know it’s incredibly selfish, but I need to know they’re going in there ready, prepared, confident!’

‘I don’t really feel any differently, Severus,’ Hermione told him. ‘I’ll talk with Isaac tomorrow. He just needs some reassurance. We can’t demand that he be happy about something so completely out of his control.’

~oOo~

The next morning, after breakfast, Hermione bundled Erin and Nate off to the corner shop with a long list of items to buy. Both of them, gleeful at having such a grown-up responsibility, had accepted the task and keenly hurried out of the door. Isaac remained seated at the kitchen table, Hermione sat beside him, and Severus stood off to one side, leaning against the kitchen tops with his arms folded.

‘Your dad told me about the conversation you had yesterday,’ Hermione began, gently. ‘About you not wanting to go to Hogwarts.’

‘He said he wasn’t going to tell you about that. He said there was no point because you would agree with him that I have to go.’

‘Well,’ Hermione retorted, throwing Severus a stern look in consequence for his lack of diplomacy, ‘I do agree with him, but-‘ She paused because the boy had burst into tears and buried his head in his arms on the table. ‘Oh, Isaac,’ Hermione said, putting an arm around his shoulders. Severus came forwards and sat down in one of the empty chairs. ‘Hey, come on,’ Hermione continued to sooth, pulling Isaac up so that she could hold him in a proper hug. They waited until he had stopped sobbing and Hermione wiped away his tears. ‘What’s this all about?’

‘Hogwarts is stupid. It’s far away and we can’t come home often and it doesn’t have internet so we have to write letters and nobody writes letters so my friends won’t talk to me and when we do come back they’ll have all these stories about _their_ school and their _new_ friends, they’ll forget about me, and even if Hogwarts _is_ good I can’t tell anyone about it and…’ he paused to breathe, ‘and making friends is hard and I don’t want to do it again and you two went there, and you’re famous, everyone says how you were the best witch ever and how dad was so talented, and I’m rubbish, I just set things on fire by accident all the time! I want to stay here, with you, like a normal kid.’

‘OK,’ said Hermione, thoughtfully, taking a moment to digest his tirade. ‘I suppose the point is, Isaac, that you _aren’t_ normal,’ – she held a hand up to prevent his protestations – ‘and that’s _perfectly_ acceptable! You’re a wizard, and I expect, in time, you’ll be a really, really good one, but we’ll only find out when you’ve been to Hogwarts.’

Isaac shook his head, clearly still unconvinced. ‘Well, I wish I wasn’t a wizard.’

‘There’s not a lot we can do about that, I’m afraid,’ Severus interjected.

‘Your dad does have a point there,’ Hermione conceded. ‘I was anxious about going, you know. For many of the same reasons you just said. I didn’t want to leave home, or my friends. But it was at Hogwarts that I made the very best friends! That’s not to say it came easy, or that I didn’t have to try hard, but the friends I made at Hogwarts, I’m still friends with to this day! You are a kind and thoughtful boy and anyone would be lucky to be your friend. Plus, you’re going to have so much more in common with the children at Hogwarts than those here because at Hogwarts “normal” is being a wizard!’

‘And I saw hundreds of young wizards and witches go through that school, Isaac,’ Severus said, ‘I know a dunderhead when I see one, and it isn’t you. Look how good you are at helping me with my potions, and with looking after the flowers outside? That’s Potions and Herbology you’re already way ahead of the game on.’

Isaac still looked painfully sad. ‘But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there. I do stuff that’s not good by accident _all_ the time – fires, and floods, and what about that time I made the swing throw that boy off because he called me weird and he really hurt his leg and needed crutches? I’ll just… embarrass you!’

‘You could never!’ both Hermione and Severus said in unison, which caused Hermione to smile over at Severus in a way that warmed his insides.

‘Isaac,’ she continued, turning back to their son. ‘If anything, accidental magic is all the more reason for you to go to Hogwarts. You know what the problem is, don’t you? You’re _just_ like your dad. Heck, if your dad hadn’t gone to Hogwarts he’d probably be setting things on fire by accident to this day!’

Severus glared at her, then his features softened. ‘I should be offended, but that’s probably true,’ he said, pleased to see a flicker of a smile on Isaac’s face. ‘Certainly, when I was your age I did a lot of accidental magic but once I learned how to control it, Isaac, it’s hard to describe what that’s like, how good it feels.’

Hermione nodded and looked back down at their son who, although his cheeks were still pink and eyes were still wet, now looked a little more contemplative.

‘The things you’re worried about are the exact same things lots of children going to Hogwarts for the first time get worried about. When you get there, for a little while, you might still be worried about these things, so you’ll need to give it a chance, but I feel very confident that you’re going to settle in just fine.’

‘I can come home at Christmas and Easter?’

‘Of course!’ Hermione said, incredulously. ‘In fact, I expect you to! We’re going to miss you too, you know?’

~oOo~

Severus pulled on a shirt and twiddled at the buttons until all but the top one was fastened. This was about as casual as he ever got, Hermione having also gradually transitioned him into dark jeans, as opposed to trousers, over the years. He was rolling up his sleeves as he left the bedroom when he caught sight of Isaac, sat cross legged on his own bedroom floor, with his new school supplies laid out before him. It was a few days since Hermione and Severus had spoken to Isaac in the kitchen and he hadn’t mentioned Hogwarts since.

‘Everything there?’ Severus asked, leaning against the door frame.

‘Yeah,’ Isaac replied. ‘Look at this, it’s so cool!’

Severus entered the room and crouched down beside the boy. He had open his first year Charms book and was reading up on the Aparecium charm.

‘Very cool,’ Severus agreed, laughing as Isaac swished a pencil around pretending it was a wand.

‘It reveals secret messages written in invisible ink!’

‘It does. Here’s a thought, what if we get some invisible ink, a bottle for you and a bottle for mum and me, and then when we write to each other, no one else will know what we’re saying. People will think you’re being sent blank sheets of parchment!’

Isaac let out a genuine laugh that Severus felt like he hadn’t heard in a long time. He felt himself relax a little.

‘Can we?’ Isaac asked.

‘Leave it with me,’ Severus said, pushing himself back to a standing position with his hand on Isaac’s head for balance. His knees cracked and he winced. ‘Are we – are we feeling better about going to Hogwarts maybe?’ he asked, moving over the window to stretch his legs and look down into the garden below so Isaac didn’t feel interrogated.

‘Erm… I think so. But I’m very nervous.’

‘Well, that’s normal,’ Severus reassured him, turning back to face him. Severus thought back to himself at Isaac’s age. How grown-up and bold he’d felt, buoyed at prospect of getting away from his parents. Isaac was so little, still a baby, really. ‘I think you’ll do brilliantly there.’

Isaac gave a shy smile. ‘Are you working today? Maybe I could help and get a bit of potions practice in?’

‘I do have some botflies that could do with de-winging.’

Isaac beamed.

~oOo~

After a slightly frenzied morning, Severus, Hermione, and the children had made it to Platform Nine and Three Quarters in good time. Erin and Isaac had met up with Lily and James Potter and, practically forgetting their parents were there, as eleven o’clock approached were both surprisingly eager to get on their way.

‘Isaac,’ Severus called to his son after they’d all hugged one another farewell. ‘I got you this,’ he said, pulling out a bottle of invisible ink from a pocket in his robes. ‘You’ll have mastered Aparecium by the end of your first week, I have no doubt! And now you have no reason not to write us, OK?’

Isaac looked down at the ink bottle. ‘Thanks dad. I feel like a spy! And I will, write I mean, all the time.’

Severus nodded. ‘Good. Go on then,’ he urged, encouraging Isaac gently in the direction of the carriage door. The boy turned and headed off after his sister and their friends.

They waited until the train rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight before turning to leave the platform. ‘Isaac really does seem much happier about the whole thing,’ Hermione said as they headed back out of King’s Cross. ‘He wouldn’t stop chattering about how he already knew half the stuff in his Potions book.’ She gripped Severus with one arm and pulled Nate, reluctant to say goodbye to his siblings, along behind her.

‘Of course he does!’ Severus said. ‘He’ll be ahead of the class until at least fifth year with all the things he’s helped me with!’

‘Mmm… so that’s the twins both doing alright, and I reckon this one,’ she said, looking down at Nate, ‘will cheer up after some chocolate buttons from the shop.’ Nate smiled reluctantly. ‘So that just leaves you. How are you feeling now they’ve finally gone?’

Severus sighed as they turned down a quiet alley where they would be safe to Apparate from. ‘It’s going to be a bit of an adjustment, I think, but,’ he pulled both Nate and Hermione close so they could side-along, ‘I think the three of us will be OK!’ In fact, he felt somewhat like he’d had a limb severed. ‘Ready?’

Nate closed his eyes and pressed himself into Severus’s side. Hermione gripped his jacket. ‘Ready,’ they chorused. There was a loud crack as they disappeared, rematerialising a moment later on the banks of the canal in Cockworth. Now back on familiar ground, Nate ran ahead a little.

‘And you?’ Severus asked, as Hermione threaded her arm through his.

‘Like you say, it’s going to be a bit of an adjustment but I just keep reminding myself that they’re safe, will be learning lots, and having a lot of fun! _And_ ,’ she added, ‘before you say anything, they’ll probably be getting into a lot of trouble as well if they’re anything like me!’

‘I wasn’t going to say anything,’ he lied. That is precisely what he’d been about to say. ‘Let’s just hope it’s the kind of trouble you got into and not the kind of trouble I got into,’ he said instead with a grimace.

‘Oh, don’t start,’ she chided him softly, stroking his arm gently. ‘Today is a good day, a nice day! Let’s enjoy the last of the summer holidays before Nate has to go back school too!’

~oOo~

Indeed, a week later Nate returned to the local primary school and their lives resumed their usual routines. Hermione woke early to get to her job at The Ministry on time. Severus emerged an hour later and prepared breakfast for himself and Nate before walking the boy to school. Most days he spent brewing and dispatching order, except Wednesdays on which he travelled into London to meet potential clients and buy supplies. At three he would pick Nate back up and they’d do homework or reading until Hermione came home when one of them would make tea.

But the twins had left an emptiness that neither he, nor Hermione, spoke much about. It was noticeable in small ways, like when one of them made too much food for tea, forgetting that there would three, rather five, mouths to feed, or when Hermione bought Erin’s favourite cereal, only to get home and remember she wouldn’t be there to eat it. The days were less busy with after school activities, sleep overs, and tantrums from only one child and, so, Severus found them dragging. He’d thought initially he might quite like the quieter days, he’d thought they might be relaxing. But with less things to think about there was more space for uninvited thoughts to infiltrate his mind…

‘I’d like to invite Harry and Ginny over for my birthday,’ Hermione had said, pleasantly, one evening last week. ‘For a barbecue before the weather gets too cold for them. It’ll be nice for Nate, Lily and Albus to play together for a few hours as well.’ Severus had rolled his eyes which Hermione had clearly taken to be consent as he now found himself stood in the back garden poking at some sausages, though they had a limited amount of his attention.

Instead he watched the three children running about on the lawn, kicking a football to one another. Nate, of course, had no propensity for team sports given his genetic heritage, and was having a hard time maintaining any possession of the ball while Albus, albeit a year or so older, ran rings around him. Lily was “in goal,” which was essentially the side of shed. She wouldn’t be due at Hogwarts until next year, but she had a maturity about her as she watched the boys tackling one another with an air of sisterly disdain.

She did not look particularly like _his_ Lily; though her hair was red it was a touch brighter and curlier, more like Ginny’s, than _his_ Lily’s had been, and she had not inherited those emerald eyes – it would have been altogether too cruel if she had, Severus thought; it was bad enough seeing them peering at him out of Harry’s face. But in the child’s mannerisms and character, she _was_ reminiscent of _his_ Lily.

Severus watched as she told Albus off for being too boisterous, after he’d floored Nate with a particularly aggressive side-tackle, in a tone which reminded Severus of the way _his_ Lily would have reprimanded James or Sirius when they were targeting him. He thought it rather unfair of his mind to do these strange acrobatics and bring him, always, back to Lily, particularly when he had done such a good job of keeping these memories at bay for so long.

‘Beer?’ Harry offered, coming up behind Severus and disturbing him from his thoughts. ‘Whoa, I think they’re ready!’ he added, nodding his head in the direction of the grill where the sausages had blackened.

‘Oh, shit!’ Severus replied, taking them off the heat with some mental prongs and replacing them with burgers. He took the beer from Harry and downed a few large mouthfuls.

‘It’s not like you to be distracted. You’d have had a few choice words for me in my school days if I’d have been daydreaming over an open flame like that.’

‘You usually were daydreaming.’

‘And you usually had some choice words for me. How is it with the twins gone?’

‘Quiet.’

‘I bet.’

They fell into silence. Whilst they had achieved something comparable to amiable civility over the past decade, neither would have considered the other a friend. They got on for Hermione’s sake and both of them were at peace with that.

‘It’s thirty-five years this Hallowe’en,’ Harry said suddenly.

Severus looked over at Harry and noted that he, too, was watching his daughter with a curious expression. Severus flipped the burgers. ‘It’s the same as any other year,’ he said calmly.

‘I think about it… differently as I get older.’

Severus exhaled loudly, his eyes shut as he tempered his frustrations. ‘Right,’ was all he said.

Harry continued unperturbed. ‘Did she ever come here?’

‘What?’

‘My mum, did she ever visit this house?’

‘I… I don’t know. I suppose she must have but I didn’t make a habit of inviting guests over. I rather wished I’d maintained my resolve on that front, actually,’ Severus replied, looking pointedly at Harry in the hope it would shut him up.

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘Will you tell me about her?’

Severus shook his head. ‘I don’t want to talk about her. Least of all with you.’

‘What does that mean? “Least of all” with me? She was _my_ mother!’ Harry said, his voice raised.

‘Is everything alright?’ Hermione called from just inside the kitchen door, both she and Ginny were watching Severus and Harry with quizzical expressions. Even the children had stopped playing to watch their spat.

Severus looked from Hermione back to Harry. ‘Everything is fine,’ he said tersely after a moment. Harry nodded in a vague way that might be interpreted as agreement. Hermione looked unconvinced but retreated back inside. The children went back to their game.

‘She’s more mine than she ever was yours,’ Harry said after a moment. ‘You’re the only person left who really knew her. Remus told me bits, and Sirius did. Even Minerva. Then I have what I remember of your memories. It’s all fragments, Snape, and try as I might I can’t piece them together. I’d really… _appreciate_ it, if you could help me fill in some of the gaps?’

Severus watched the younger Lily again, she had grown bored of the boys’ game and was sat in the grass making a daisy chain. ‘I… can’t,’ Severus replied at length.

Harry shook his head angrily. ‘That isn’t fair, Snape! Do you still have your memories?’

‘What?’

‘You know exactly what I’m talking about. The ones I gave you back after your trial.’

‘No,’ Severus said, the lie tripping off his tongue.

‘Liar. I want to see them again.’

‘Most certainly not!’

‘You let me them before.’

‘That was… a necessity. Anyway, it was one thing for you to see them when I thought I was dying and wouldn’t have to deal with the shame. It’s quite another knowing you’ve seen them and I have to spend time with you… socially forever more. I’d prefer if they weren’t fresh in your mind.’

‘Please?’ Harry asked, sounded desperate.

Hermione had once warned Severus that this day might come, when Harry would turn to Severus for closure regarding his parents. Severus looked into Harry’s eyes and then turned away with a pained sigh. ‘Food’s ready,’ he announced, loudly enough that everyone would hear, and he turned from Harry without another word as everyone congregated at the garden table where, in addition to the meat, Hermione had prepared a salad and condiments.

As they all began to eat the tension between Severus and Harry was, thankfully, lost in the chatter, but as the meal went on, Severus felt a strange, twisting longing come over him. He realised now that he hadn’t thought about those memories since Hermione had suggested he keep them, _just in case_ , after his trial all those years ago. He might not have thought of them in over a decade but now he had been reminded of them he wondered furiously where on Earth they could have possibly gotten to. Quite unexpectedly, he now needed to see those memories again more than anything in the world.

~oOo~

‘Mr. Snape, would it be possible to have a quick chat?’ Miss. Heath, Nate’s class teacher asked, accosting Severus before he had chance to get away from the school gates a couple of weeks after the barbeque. He already had Nate’s hand in his and was ready to make his usual quick escape before one of the mum’s dragged him into a conversation about some birthday party or PTA meeting that he really could not have cared less about.

He mustered the last of his energy to try and maintain civility. ‘Everything alright?’ he asked with a strained smile.

‘Well… erm… Nate was telling me a rather interesting story today. I asked him about Erin and Isaac. He was saying they’d gone to some sort of school where they sleep over. A boarding school presumably.’

‘That’s right,’ Severus agreed, hoping to keep the conversation short.

‘Yes. He said they learn magic and that you and his mum went there and there was a war? There was some rather concerning stuff about spells that hurt and even kill people. It was hard to follow but it sounded really quite frightening.’

Severus looked down at Nate who looked back up at him with some consternation, chewing his bottom lip in a way that was both reminiscent of his mother and also suggested he knew he was in trouble. Severus slipped his hand inside his jacket; his wand lay in one of the inner pockets.

‘I simply can’t imagine where he’s go that from,’ he said, his grip on Nate’s hand tightening just a fraction. ‘He does have quite an imagination.’

‘I wondered,’ Miss. Heath continued, ‘whether maybe Isaac and Erin have told him some made up stories. Or perhaps, he’s been playing some video games or watching some TV or films that aren’t age appropriate? Or that maybe… maybe… erm… Ah, Mr. Snape!’ she said, as if just realising he was stood before her. ‘Nate’s had a wonderful day. His reading is really coming along, you can tell he’s been doing lots of practice at home.’ She smiled down at Nate who looked between his teacher and his father absolutely bewildered.

‘Well, that’s nice to hear,’ Severus assured her. ‘We do do lots of practicing, don’t we, Nate?’

Nate looked up at Severus frowning. ‘Yep,’ he said, still clearly perplexed.

‘Lovely,’ his teacher continued. ‘We will see you tomorrow then, Nate.’

‘Thank you,’ Severus said, pulling Nate away quickly before he began, again, so like his mother, asking questions. ‘Nathaniel!’ he said sternly, once they were a safe distance away on their way back home. ‘Why on Earth would say those things to your teacher?’

Nate shrugged. ‘She asked me about Erin and Isaac.’

‘And when people ask you about Erin and Isaac, what do you say?’

‘They go to boarding school.’

‘Yes. And?’

‘ _And_? I don’t know’

‘That’s because that’s it! There is no “and.” You tell them they go to boarding school and that’s it! End of the conversation!’

Nate pulled his hand out of Severus’s but continued to walk along beside him. They moved on like that in a silence for a little while, Severus regretting the tone he’d taken and Nate with a face like thunder until, clearly, something he remembered distracted him, the way children are often distracted.

‘Daddy, can I dress up as a vampire for Hallowe’en?’ he asked, his tone suddenly quite cheerful again.

‘No,’ Severus replied irritably, not having recovered from the incident with the teacher quite so quickly. It was not just that he hated the Muggle propensity for dressing their children up as murderous magical creatures for Hallowe’en, this year in particular, Hallowe’en didn’t feel like cause for celebration. He didn’t need reminding of it and he certainly didn’t fancy walking the streets of Cokeworth with Nate dressed in a bin liner with a pair of plastic fangs in his mouth that would only rub his gums sore while he buzzed off too much sugar.

‘Why?’

‘Because I said so.’

‘That’s not fair. I’ll ask mum.’

‘That’s not how it works. You don’t go between us until you get an answer you like,’ Severus explained, sweeping past Nate who had stopped dead and folded his arms with an expression of complete defiance. ‘And you can’t have a strop every time you don’t get your own way. Come on. Home.’

‘No.’

Severus closed the distance between them and pulled gently at one of Nate’s folded arms. ‘Now!’ he demanded, in a tone which Nate would have been very brave to ignore. The boy traipsed after Severus reluctantly, his feet slapping on the pavement, all the way back to Spinner’s End. ‘Go to your room,’ Severus order once they were inside. Nate didn’t move. ‘Nate, go to your room!’ he repeated, raising his voice and jabbing a finger the vague direction of Nate’s bedroom.

‘You’re horrible,’ Nate said, bursting into tears and stomping up the stairs.

‘Yep,’ Severus agreed, hanging up their coats in the hallway and then moving up the stairs himself. He made his way to his and Hermione’s bedroom and pulled out the two storage boxes from underneath their bed. He opened the lid of the first and rummaged through it but it was only filled with extra bedding, so he pushed it back under. The second was filled was more odds and ends, which he filed through for a while but quickly realised what he was looking for wasn’t amongst them. He turned his attention to the beside tables; he opened his own drawer first, knowing that it wasn’t in there because he already knew everything that _was_ in there, before turning to Hermione’s and, with a little more hesitation as the invasion of privacy was not lost on him, opened that one too. It didn’t contain what he was looking for. He stood up and sighed, then dropped onto the bed, laying on his back with his hands rested on his chest. This sudden compulsion had come to him out of nowhere, but now that it had he felt an almost dizzying urgency. For the past few days he had practically turned the house upside down looking for that little phial of memories.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew he was awaking into darkness and Hermione was standing over him having just got in from work.

‘Tired?’ she asked, looking down at him as she took off her travelling robes.

‘Apparently,’ he sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘Sorry, I haven’t started tea.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll make something. Where’s Nate?’

‘I sent him to his room.’

‘Why?’

‘He was being a massive pain,’ Severus said. ‘Why are all our children such massive pains?’

‘I suspect it’s hereditary,’ she replied, offering him a withered look and beginning to head out of the room.

‘He was telling his teacher about Hogwarts,’ he called after her, ‘I had to Obliviate her. And if he asks you if he can be a vampire for Hallowe’en, the answer is “no!”’ He couldn’t say for sure how much of that last sentence she would have heard as she was already next door in Nate’s room.

With her gone, Severus glanced around the room, two baskets on top of the wardrobe catching his attention. He couldn’t be sure he hadn’t already checked them, but it wouldn’t hurt to look again. He climbed onto the chair usually situated by Hermione’s dressing table, and stuck his hand in one, and then the other.

‘Nate has something he wishes to say to y-‘ Hermione said, re-entering the room and pushing forwards a chastened looking Nate, ‘you,’ she concluded, eyeing Severus suspiciously. He had frozen with his hand still reaching up into the basket.

‘Sorry,’ said Nate, shuffling his feet.

Severus climbed down from the chair. ‘Apology accepted,’ he said quickly, putting the chair back as well. ‘What’s for tea then?’ he said, his tone, he knew, suspiciously jovial and could tell by Hermione’s expression that she was not fooled by it.

~oOo~

A few days later, Severus was just drifting off on the sofa when Hermione entered the room prickling with excitement. He startled awake and watched as she plonked the old Romanian Puzzle Box he’d bought her, all those years ago, on the coffee table.

‘Look,’ she said, handing Severus an envelope of thin card. ‘The photos we took of the twins in their uniforms have been developed.’

Severus put on his glasses and peered down at the images of the children; both smiling at the camera in their new robes. He flicked through them to see others where they were joined by Nate and then Severus and Hermione. There were also a few they’d taken when Hermione’s parents visited over the summer, when they’d visited the seaside, and some on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

‘Lovely,’ he said, handing them back.

‘They’ve both written again, too,’ Hermione continued, indicating a length of parchment she was reading. ‘It sounds like they’re having a wonderful time.’

‘Isaac too?’

‘Seems so. He says he got a good mark for his first piece of Potions homework and he’s joined the Gobstones Club.’

‘Good,’ Severus sighed, removing his glasses again and sitting back on the sofa with his eyes closed.

‘These will be great memories for the kids to look back on when they’re older, it’ll be like a diary of their first year,’ she said, filing away the photos and letters in the Puzzle Box. ‘Hey, I’m going to get a shower and then maybe we can watch another episode of that Norwegian series?’ she suggested.

Severus nodded in agreement and, pecking him briefly on the cheek, Hermione vacated the room.

He put his feet back up on the coffee table, accidentally nudging the Puzzle Box. He opened his eyes again, _really_ noticing the Puzzle Box now. _‘Great memories… to look back on…’_ he heard Hermione saying, and he had to wonder… is that where she had put _his_ memories, safe for him to look back on one day like she’d predicted he would want to?

He sat forward, pulled the box towards him and flipped open the lid. If rummaging through Hermione’s bedside table had felt like a breach of privacy, then rummaging through a box of her most treasured possessions felt like a positive betrayal. But, the urge overwhelmed him; he suddenly felt certain that his memories would be in there, and he _needed_ to see them and, after all, they _were_ his.

He heard the boiler grind into action as Hermione turned on the shower and with one last glance towards the living room door, he dug his hand deep into the box. He felt through the various objects, pushing them to one side when he was sure they weren’t what he was looking for. Although quite full, at this time, the Puzzle Box was not as rammed as it would be when they family sat down to look through it one Christmas Eve years later.

Then, as is always the case with these things, he was just about to give up when his fingers fell upon something smooth and cool to the touch. He gripped it between his thumb and forefinger and slowly, carefully withdrew it from the box. He shifted it into the palm of his hand, not quite believing that after all these weeks of searching, he finally had the phial of memories in his possession again. He inspected the bottle carefully, bringing it close to his eye to better seen the swirling, silvery contents within.

He was tempted, right there and then, to withdraw the memories with his wand and place them back inside his mind, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure carrying the memories around in his head again was altogether the best idea; at least hazy and half-formed as they were currently in his mind, he could go about his day-to-day life unhindered. He also wasn’t sure that he wanted all of the memories back; he didn’t want to see Lily dead, of that he was certain, and he didn’t want to see himself begging Dumbledore for the chance to make things right, or see himself pandering to the old man’s whims for all those years. If he was to watch them back in a Pensieve, he knew, he could better control what he saw and no unexpected scenes could sneak up on him when he wasn’t prepared.

And there was something else that stopped him, something which didn’t sit quite right with him. He pondered for a moment and then realised; it was that he didn’t want Hermione to know. She must not know, and he wasn’t sure he could keep it a secret from her if they were back inside his head for him access at any moment.

Footsteps on the stairs alerted him to her return and he snapped the lid of the Puzzle Box shut and secreted the phial into his trouser pocket before she was back in the room. She sat down beside him and turned on the TV. ‘What episode were we up to?’ she asked, leaning into him as he put his arm around her. He felt completely fraudulent.

~oOo~

‘Thank you for this,’ Severus said, looking down into the Pensieve with a frown. His hand was in his pocket, slowly turning the phial over and over in his palm.

‘Anytime, Severus, of course. Am I able to ask what this is all about?’ Minerva asked. He looked reluctant. ‘You _are_ using _my_ office, after all,’ she pointed out. ‘It isn’t an everyday request to use a Pensieve, and I know you aren’t a big fan of coming back to the school, so I’m really quite curious!’

‘I just wanted to view some memories,’ he said at length, thinking on his feet. ‘It’s for work. A client was attacked, only he isn’t sure what by. He leant me his memories so we can try and establish what type of anti-venom might cure him.’

She looked at him with narrow, suspicious eyes and then relented with a sigh. ‘Very well,’ she said, packing up some sheets of parchment and a few books from her desk. ‘I’ll leave you to it. You can see yourself out when you’re finished, I’m sure,’ she said, coming around the desk. ‘It was lovely to see you again Severus, but I have to say, your skills of deception are a little rusty, that lie was worthy of first-year Hufflepuff not an Order of Merlin winning double agent.’ She looked at him pointedly over the top of her glasses. ‘Must dash,’ she concluded, and then she was gone.

Severus watched the door she had disappeared through for a moment and then turned back to the Pensieve. He withdrew the phial from his pocket and decanted the contents into the bowl, watching them spread, a strange consistency somewhere between liquid and smoke. He held his breath, and plunged his head into the haze…

~oOo~

A hand gripped his shoulder. A hand which was not part of the memory. He startled and pulled back from the Pensieve, a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead and his eyes stung.

‘Are you still here?’ Minerva asked. ‘Gosh, you look terrible!’

Severus ran a hand through his hair and wiped his face with the sleeve of his robes. ‘Sorry… I…’

Minerva eyed him concernedly. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Severus?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he said, apologetically, rubbing his eyes. ‘Sorry. Err… do you think I could come back tomorrow?’

‘Because it is _you_ , Severus, I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. However, I have to say this is very much against my better judgement. Whatever you’re doing is clearly no good for you,’ she said, gesturing at his unkempt appearance.

‘I understand. Thank you.’

‘I need my office for meetings in the morning so you better make it after eleven-thirty?’

‘Can I ask one more thing?’

Minerva rolled her eyes, ‘I suppose.’

‘Do you think you could maybe… maybe _not_ mention this to Hermione when you next speak to her?’

She now looked at him very sternly, a look she had not cast upon him since his school days and she’d caught him practicing hexes in a deserted classroom. ‘I don’t agree with that at all!’ she said, wide-eyed. ‘In fact, I’m appalled that you would ask that of me!’

‘I know, I know! It’s just… for now, at least, I’d prefer if she didn’t know… I don’t want her to worry.’

‘You must promise me, Severus, that you will tell her yourself about whatever it is you’re doing, sooner rather than later, so I am not put in any compromising positions.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Severus lied dismissively. Minerva continued to glare at him for another long moment, but then broke her gaze and began busying herself with some paperwork. He pulled his robes back on a little straighter and ran his hand through his hair a few more times so that he might look a little more presentable. ‘What time is it?’ he asked.

‘Almost five.’

‘Oh, shit! Nate, I was supposed to pick him up from school at three! Oh my God!’ He turned quickly back to the Pensieve and siphoned the memories back into the phial. ‘I have to go, but thank you for this, Minerva, I mean it.’ She huffed in a way which suggested he was not welcome but he was already calling “Spinner’s End” into the Floo, where he quickly disappeared in a flurry of green flames.

A few gut-wrenching moments later he was flung onto the carpet of the living room at home where Nate and Hermione sat curled up on the settee together watching children’s television. Severus looked between them, the right words refusing to come to him. Hermione was on her feet but he didn’t have the energy to try and deduce the meaning of her expression.

‘I am so, _so_ sorry,’ he said, his hands out in front of himself, flapping. He looked past Hermione to Nate. ‘Nate, I am so sorry!’

‘Did you forget me?’ the boy asked.

‘No! No, of course not, I just… I got held up with a work thing. Are you OK?’ he moved forwards past Hermione and knelt down in front of Nate, who was still seated on the settee.

‘I was scared but then Mummy came.’

Severus nodded. ‘It won’t happen again, OK?’

Nate nodded and held his arms up for Severus to hug him. Severus wrapped his arms around him and hung on tightly. He perhaps felt even more disgusted with himself because Nate was so forgiving. After a long moment they released one another and Nate went back to his cartoons while Severus followed a rather ill looking Hermione into the kitchen.

‘Really,’ he said, sounding defensive which he instantly knew would seem suspicious. ‘It won’t happen again!’

‘The teachers were most concerned when they called me, Nate was sobbing when I arrived, and you can only imagine what was going through my mind! You know my mind always jumps to the worst conclusions!’

‘I know. I’m sorry… really, I just… I just got held up… a complex case.’

She sighed and rubbed the tension out of her neck. ‘I’m just glad you’re OK. I was so worried.’

He closed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug. She melted into him and he was just glad she couldn’t see the stricken look on his face. For him, the embrace felt entirely hollow as his mind was, most decidedly, on when he would next be able to get to the Pensieve, when he would next be able to see Lily.

~oOo~

The next morning he sat in the living room, his travelling robes already on, listening to the time tick by until eleven-thirty. His foot tapped impatiently as he looked from the clock on the mantelpiece to his wristwatch, and back again, as though one of them might move faster suddenly and it would be time.

‘Don’t forget me today,’ Nate had said as Severus had dropped him off at school that morning. Severus had internally winced, had wondered whether maybe he shouldn’t visit the Pensieve today…

A chime rang out from the mantelpiece clock; eleven-thirty. Severus was on his feet before he quite knew what he was doing and the next moment he was drowning in the warm, golden glow of his memories. He had charmed his wristwatch to alert him at two-thirty today, so there was no chance that he would miss picking Nate up, but it was with great reluctance that, when it finally went off, he extricated himself from the Pensieve and returned to Spinner’s End.

The next day, and the day after that, were much the same, and even when he was not able to get to the Pensieve, his thoughts were always with it. Many times he was pulled from this heavy reverie to the sound of ‘Severus, are you even listening to me?’ or ‘Dad? Daddy? Well, can I?’. By the second week he was foregoing his work to spend ever more time with his memories. Minerva appeared quite concerned about him but refrained from further comment; she seemed to no longer _want_ to know what he was doing, which suited his ends. Similarly, if Hermione suspected anything was amiss, she too was reluctant to say. He would catch her looking at him worriedly and it was growing increasingly difficult to the answer the question ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ when it was asked numerous times a day.

‘I was thinking we might branch out a little for our walk tomorrow?’ Hermione said over dinner on Thursday evening of the second week. ‘Go somewhere a little further afield? The weather is supposed be nice.’ Hermione didn’t work Fridays and each week they would spend these precious child-free hours, while Nate was at school, going on long hikes and putting the world to rights.

He looked up at her and weighed up his options. ‘I have to work tomorrow,’ he said, trying to sound as though he was only just remembering this and was bitterly disappointed about it. ‘It’s that case I was telling you about. It’s proving most troublesome.’

‘Yes,’ Hermione said, clearly not buying it. ‘Isn’t it just… Friday’s are _our_ time though, Severus. You really have to?’

Severus felt a jolt in his heart. He inhaled deeply. ‘He’s really very unwell, if we don’t find the antidote soon, he may die.’

‘OK,’ she said at length, ‘maybe I’ll ask my parents to take Nate on Saturday and we can have some time together then, just the two of us?’

He met her hopeful gaze and swallowed a wave of panic that had welled up inside him as he tried to imagine a day without access to the memories. He issued her a small smile. ‘That would be nice,’ he said, agreeably. ‘Although… I can’t guarantee I won’t be needed then too.’

‘Mummy, we need to sort out my Hallowe’en costume,’ Nate interrupted and Severus had never been more grateful for the change of subject despite Hermione’s aghast expression. ‘I want to go as a skeleton, if I can’t be a vampire. Is a skeleton OK, Daddy?’

‘Fine,’ Severus replied dismissively, standing from the table and clearing away his plate. He could feel Hermione eyes on the back of his head as she explained the Nate they’d buy him a costume from the supermarket and she would paint his face.

It was late the next day when Severus returned from Hogwarts. The house appeared deserted but muffled voices from upstairs suggested that Hermione was putting Nate to bed. Severus dusted the soot from his travelling robes and threw them on one settee, and himself on the other. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He didn’t know whether he’d fallen asleep or not for all he knew was the image of a smiling, auburn-haired woman…

He opened his eyes to find Hermione looking down at him again with a sympathetic and concerned expression on her face which was most certainly undeserved. ‘You look exhausted,’ she said softly. ‘I hope you’re not taking on too much?’ She sat beside him and placed her hand on his thigh. He wanted to swat it away, but resisted.

‘No,’ he said.

‘Oh. And you’re keeping on top of everything? I can always help.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It’s fine.’

Her expression had changed now, she was frowning and there was a glint of anger in her eyes.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘You’re lying to me.’

He sat up a little in mock outrage. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘This morning, just after you’d left, a Howler arrived for you. It had a few choice words for you, courtesy of a disgruntled client – a Mr. Sylvan? He seemed to have been waiting on an order for quite some time and had been trying unsuccessfully to contact you about it since last week. He mentioned having spoken to a few other people he knew bought from you and they were having similar issues. You can imagine my surprise at hearing that, when I know you’ve been working all these extra hours.’ She peered at him questioningly and he could tell that his run of luck in terms of hoodwinking her had come to an end. Reluctantly, this was the time for truth, but he couldn’t quite make the words come yet, forcing her to persist. ‘Something is clearly bothering you and I suspect it might have something to do with it being Hallowe’en in a few days,’ she said. ‘You’ve been irritable, even moreso than usual, and forgetful, which isn’t like you at all. Now it’s clear you’ve not been focused on your work either. It’s been a long time, seemingly, since you’ve struggled with Hallowe’en quite like you are this year.’

He hesitated then, ‘fundamentally, yes, I suppose it is that,’ he said.

‘Feel free to elaborate,’ she demanded, clearly losing patience with his vagueness. It was most unlike her to lose patience with him and he knew he was pushing his luck to the very brink now.

‘I suppose… I suppose it all goes back to the twins leaving for Hogwarts,’ he began to explain with some timidity. ‘It was a real… loss - I know you felt it too – but the bottom line is, I don’t deal with loss very well and… and one loss can make me think of other losses, only at first I couldn’t quite work out that that’s what it was. It just felt… uncanny.’

‘That explains precisely nothing.’

‘For so long my mind has been full of the kids, so full of the kids that I hadn’t had chance to think about… other things. Then they were gone and, even though Nate was still here, obviously, my days were suddenly a lot less full and… and some of those old thoughts and feelings started creeping in.’

‘For how much longer are you going to skirt around it? Say it without really saying it?’ Hermione asked, clearly understanding Severus’s inference when he spoke of “old thoughts and feelings.” They’d been here before.

‘Yes…’ he started again slowly. ‘ _Her_. Lily’ He hung his head ashamedly. ‘When Potter came over for the barbecue, he wouldn’t stop banging on about her, and it brought it all suddenly back into very sharp focus.’

‘But nothing you have said is really any different to any other year,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘Every Hallowe’en is difficult for you. Less so, in more recent times, as I say, but still… none of what you just said really explains why you’re not doing your work, or… actually, yes… it doesn’t explain why you forgot to pick your son up from school. I’d like to know what you’ve been doing with your time if you haven’t been going to work when you said you were?’

Severus’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to say it out loud but he could see he was being left with very little choice. ‘When Potter was here he asked about my memories, the ones that he saved all those years after the war, and which he returned to me after my trial.’

‘I recall.’

‘They were something else I hadn’t thought about in a long time but he caught me at a vulnerable moment when he mentioned them – he wanted to see them again but suddenly, I can’t really explain why, I wanted them all to myself. I wanted to see them, see her.’

Hermione was nodding, her expression growing increasingly stricken. He couldn’t hold her gaze.

‘It took a while but I found them –‘

‘In my Puzzle Box.’

‘Yes. I took them to Hogwarts where Minerva allowed me to use Dumbledore’s old Pensieve. At first, I thought, once would be enough. I’d watch them, it would satisfy and itch, and then I’d put them back, but… as soon as I’d divulged again it proved difficult to stop. Watching them in the Pensieve made them all the more… potent. I could examine every last detail of them, again and again and again, completely bewitched and utterly obsessed once again. That’s where I’ve been going, that’s what I’ve been doing. All day, every day, whenever I could.’

Hermione looked disgusted with him, she had retreated slightly away from him on the settee.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘But it was you who told me to keep hold of those memories, in case I ever wanted to see them again. Well, I did want to see them again, and this is the consequence!’

‘Do not try to make this out to be my fault!’ she scoffed. ‘I can’t believe you would try to blame me!’ She paused, breathing deeply, then looked back up at him. ‘I want to be supportive, Severus, I’ve always tried to be supportive where this… _issue_ is concerned, but I’m finding it hard to accept that we’re back here again after all this time.’

_Always_ he wanted to scream at her. Instead, he allowed her to continue.

‘Honestly, I worry now that if nothing changes we’ll end up here again at some point. It might be in a few days, a few weeks, or even a few years, but… whenever it happens again it will be too soon for me. The twins are going to be at Hogwarts for the next seven years. In four years, Nate will follow them, and then what? I think you need to take some time to figure this out once and for all, do something to stop the past preying on your present and future… preying on all of our presents and futures.’

‘That sounds like an ultimatum.’

‘It isn’t. I’m not proposing a timescale with some consequence for you if it isn’t done by then. But I’m being honest when I say I don’t think I can keep doing this and, really, how much more of it can you take before it drives you completely mad?’

He nodded slowly, recognising that she was right. ‘You know you’re not second best,’ he said, meaning it.

She avoided his gaze. ‘You’ve said something like that to me before and I believed you…’

‘You don’t believe me now?’

‘Honestly? At this point, it just feels like words. I…’ she paused to choke back tears which he hated that he’d caused. ‘I feel a bit like you’ve had an affair, even if it isn’t really. It feels like an emotional affair… I don’t know. But I do know that right now I’m feeling quite hurt and angry about it. It makes me feel like whatever I do, it won’t ever be enough. Thirteen years we’ve been together, building a life together, and still… still you’d rather spend your time with a mere memory of Lily than you would with me. You have to see the unfairness in that?’

The truth of it stung him.

She looked at him expectantly, clearly hoping he had the words to make this right there and then, but, as much as he might have wanted to, they wouldn’t come.

‘I think I’m going to bed,’ she announced, after another excruciating moment of silence.

‘Do you want me to sleep down here?’ he asked.

She gave it a moment’s thought. ‘No,’ she said, at length. ‘We aren’t arguing, Severus.

As they lay in bed, in darkness, he turned to her and stroked an errant curl of hair from her face. ‘I’ve spent the last decade telling you every night that the thing I am most grateful for in the world, is you,’ he whispered. ‘And every night I have meant that wholeheartedly. I’ll sort this. I’ll make it right.’

She reached up and took his hand in hers, kissing his palm with her eyes closed. ‘I know,’ she replied, sadly, then released his hand and turned away from him.

~oOo~

A sombre atmosphere descended over Spinner’s End that weekend whilst Hermione and Severus sought to avoid one another, which was no easy feat within the confines of their small, terraced house. Severus had refrained from visiting the Pensieve again but it was making him tetchy and on edge. He tried reading, but couldn’t concentrate, tried TV but was reminded most acutely that he hated it even at the best of times, he tried to help Nate with his maths homework, but had become so frustrated with it that Nate had become upset and Hermione had banished Severus out of the room. When they were in the same room, he caught Hermione casting him furtive glances, as though trying to determine whether he was thinking about Lily right then and there. If she’d known the truth the answer to that question would invariably have been “yes” but Hermione’s words stuck with him also: _“it feels like we’ve been here before… I worry that if nothing changes we’ll end up here again… you need to take some time to figure this out once and for all… how much more of it can you take before it drives you completely mad?”_ And he resolved that something had to be done.

He approached her on the Sunday evening, certain he couldn’t take a single moment longer of the tension between them. ‘I’ll get rid of the memories,’ he said, bluntly. ‘I’ll wash them away. We can do it now.’

‘Go on then,’ she urged.

He pulled the phial out of his pocket, pulled out the stopper, and stood poised over the kitchen sink ready to pour it away. She followed him and stood a few feet away, waiting expectantly. He tilted his hand but not quite enough to pour out any of the contents. He realised he was never going to be able to, not like this, not so unceremoniously.

‘I didn’t think so,’ Hermione said, and he was surprised to find that her tone was soft rather than accusatory. She reached out and took the phial from him gently and then re-corked it. ‘I didn’t think so because that isn’t the way to do this all,’ she said, handing him the phial back. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you should get rid of the memories, but I think there might be a better way of going about it.’

~oOo~

The late autumn day was bright, but bitten through with a cruel chill. There was a stillness in the air, and the sky was a wild blue, the sun hung low and cool.

Severus and Hermione were waiting in the living room, waiting for the Floo to burn green and the Potters to come stumbling through it.

Hermione had Severus’s hand in hers and was running comforting circles on his palm with her thumb. They didn’t speak and clearly something heavy weighed on them.

A moment later their guests arrived, who they stood to greet.

There was a moment of silence, then, as each waited for another to make the first move.

‘Ready?’ Hermione asked eventually, turning to look up into Severus’s eyes. She held his gaze and he felt buoyed by it.

He nodded and they kissed. He turned to Harry. ‘Come on then, Potter.’

‘We’ll give you an hour and then meet you by the tree,’ Hermione said, smiling at both men.

Ginny pecked Harry on the cheek and Severus led him through the house and out of the front door where they turned left down the street. ‘I thought, Potter, that it might be better if I show, rather than tell you, things you might like to know about your mother?’

‘Really?’ Harry said, as the odd duo made their way through the rows of identical grey houses, Harry struggling to keep pace despite being the taller of the two. ‘That’s what this is about?’

‘Mmm,’ Severus murmured, ‘I trust you’re still curious?’

‘Of course,’ Harry grinned.

They moved on in silence for quite some time, the homes around them gradually getting bigger, and surrounded by slightly more greenery, as they moved away from the old factory and more industrial side of Cokeworth. Eventually, Severus led them onto a cul-de-sac filled with red-brick, semi-detached houses, each with a drive big enough for one car and each with a neatly trimmed front garden.

‘This is where she lived,’ Severus said, indicating one of the houses with a nod of his head. ‘With her parents and her sister, your grandparents and aunt. She didn’t come to my house often, but I would come here a lot. I thought they were wonderful, well… apart from your aunt, but I believe that’s one thing the two of us agree on?’

‘Hm…’ Harry mumbled affirmatively, looking up at the house in apparent awe. ‘What was wonderful about them?’ Harry asked. He turned to look at Severus again with a hunger in his eyes.

Severus sighed, swallowing the pain. ‘I was always very welcome here. They were kind and they were generous. I don’t know how much your grandparents knew about my home life, how much your mum told them, but they compensated in their own little ways. They would feed me, telling me it was leftovers or they’d accidentally made too much but, looking back, it’s clear they’d made it just for me and just didn’t want to embarrass me. They’d sometimes give me the hand-me-downs of some distant cousin of your mum’s. They’d say they just had the girls and they wouldn’t wear the boys clothes, so if I wanted them, I could have them.’

‘That _is_ kind.’

‘But it wasn’t enough, later, to stop me hating Muggles.’

‘You never _really_ hated Muggles though, did you?’ Harry pointed out. ‘You were angry. It might have been easier, later, if they hadn’t been so kind. If your only real impression of Muggles had been the one your dad left on you?’

Severus hadn’t thought of it like that but he supposed Potter was right; it would have made things a lot less complicated, his allegiance much more straight forwards. But then he also thought that the same was true of the opposite and it made him wonder what might have been if all he had known was love and kindness. He grieved the lost opportunities.

‘Go on…’ Harry urged him.

‘I’d stay here for days sometimes and no one back at mine would even notice. Your mum would make me watch the most terrible TV shows but she’d find them hilarious and I liked… I liked that she liked them. She had incredible laugh…’ he trailed off, remembering it, childlike, he’d tell her she reminded him of a cuckoo clock. ‘She fell off that wall and broke her arm once,’ he continued, ‘and we’d buy sweets from a shop that used to be on the corner there,’ he turned and pointed to what was now an Indian take away. ‘She liked Liquorice Allsorts but she’d give me the jelly spogs out of them because she didn’t like aniseed.’

Severus paused to find Harry beaming at him. ‘Go on,’ he encouraged.

‘She liked a lot of Muggle music; Abba, Queen. All this catchy, happy stuff that I hated. We had _nothing_ in common but we were the _best_ of friends. Come on.’ He led Harry away from the cul-de-sac and further up the main road.

‘What was her favourite colour?’ Harry asked, as they walked.

Severus scowled. ‘God, I don’t know.’

‘Guess.’

‘Maybe purple. Her bedroom was painted purple and it was full of books, stories. She loved reading Muggle stuff. She liked all those Classics, _Wuthering Heights_ , _Jane Eyre_ , and stuff by Jane Austen. She leant me _The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe_ once, utter tosh.’

‘Did she have other friends?’

‘Of course, lots of them,’ he admitted reluctantly. He would of course have preferred to have had her all to himself but it simply wasn’t the case. ‘She went to school here,’ he said as they reached an iron fence, beyond which was what had once clearly been a stone-built primary school but now accommodated some council offices. ‘I used to wait for her outside and walk her home.’

They moved on up the street a bit where a sign told them they had reached Cokeworth Common. Harry followed Severus through the gate and down an inclining path where they paused in front of a bench. From here you could look out over the town, the factory’s chimneys silhouetted against the dying Autumn sun, tendrils of smoke riding up from them. ‘I stole some Scotch once, when we were about fourteen, and we sat on that bench until we were absolutely off our heads. She was sick in that bin. Her parents weren’t particularly happy about that, to be fair,’ he said with a frown, reliving the disappointed look on Mr. Evans’s face as the two of them had stumbled back into her house later than her curfew. ‘She never got into trouble, not really. She was… _good_. She was never unkind to anyone and she was loyal, almost to a fault.’

Now he had started it was all pouring out and he didn’t want to stop. He wasn’t sure what kinds of things Harry wanted to hear about his mother but he knew the things he wanted to try and convey about her; he just hoped he was doing her justice. He kicked the dirt at his feet and dug his hands into his coat pockets where he felt the phial of memories knock against his knuckles.

‘Let’s move on,’ he said, leading Harry downwards along the path for almost ten minutes until the ground levelled off and they reached a tree stump. Severus looked around to try and make sure they were in the right place, it didn’t look quite as he recalled. The swings were gone and the tree from which he had used to watch Lily had gone. ‘This is round about where we were the first time we ever spoke,’ he explained to Harry. ‘They cut down the tree for some reason, but I think it was in my memories? I don’t recall properly. Removed memories are a bit hazy.’

A look of recognition flickered across the younger man’s features. ‘Yes! She was on some swings and then you scared off Petunia!’

‘Mmm… she didn’t like me doing that, your mum. She was very protective of her sister, that’s just the way she was. She saw the good in everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it. Maybe even _especially_ when they didn’t deserve it. She was very _Gryffindor_ in that way.’

Harry sat down on the tree stump looking pensive.

Severus continued: ‘she liked Yorkshire Puddings.’

‘I love Yorkshire Puddings,’ Harry said, solemnly.

‘Indeed. Look… she was funny, and imaginative, creative and… I really don’t know what else you want to know…’ Severus watched Harry’s pained expression. ‘Maybe this wasn’t a good idea?’

‘No, it was,’ Harry reassured him. ‘It’s just… it’s strange to miss something you never had,’ Harry explained.

Severus sighed and sat down beside him with a groan that revealed his age. ‘You did have her. It might have been for just a fleeting time, but that doesn’t make it any less valuable. I saw her _once_ after you were born, you couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old, before you all went into hiding. She was in Diagon Alley with your father and you were in her arms. I’d wanted to talk to her, but resisted. She looked the happiest I’d ever seen her, better than happy, there was a real contentment, like… you probably know the feeling yourself, when your kids were born, like you’re complete even though you hadn’t known anything was missing. You _had her_ entirely.’ Severus omitted to say that this was entirely what he had resented Harry’s entire life.

Harry nodded knowingly and looked up at Severus with a small smile. ‘Thank you,’ he said at length, apparently trying to keep his voice from faltering. ‘And about your memories… Firstly, I want you to know that you don’t have anything to be ashamed of –‘

‘ – I would beg to differ!’

‘You made mistakes, some terrible mistakes, but you shouldn’t be ashamed of how you felt about my mum. I’m glad she had people that loved her. I’m glad she was surrounded by family and friends who loved her. I, too, know what it’s like not to have that. But, secondly, your memories are _your_ memories, so if you don’t want to me to see them again, I’ll respect that. I think if you want to get rid of them today, then it feels fitting, on the thirty-fifth anniversary of her death.’

Severus merely nodded in grateful acknowledgment. ‘You should know that it isn’t lost on me, the unfairness that she is dead and I am living a happy life.’

‘From what you have told me, she would have wanted that for you,’ Harry said, and then they sat for a long time after that, together on the tree stump, until their bones felt cold.

‘Hi,’ said a small voice, some indeterminate amount of time later. Both men spun around to find Hermione and Ginny approaching them up the path. Severus rose from his seat with another audible groan. ‘How was it?’ Hermione asked.

Severus searched for a word that would do it justice. ‘Cathartic,’ he settled on. Indeed, it did feel like a strangling weight had been lifted, a load shared.

‘Good. And Harry?’

‘I’m very grateful,’ Harry said, As Ginny relieved him from a strong embrace.

‘I hadn’t realised the tree wasn’t here anyone,’ Severus complained, a little panicked that his plan wasn’t coming together quite as he’d imagined. He’d rather been counting on the fact that the tree would be here.

At first Hermione had suggested that they take the memories to Lily’s grave and pour them out there, but the thought of James being there had plagued Severus despite his best efforts, and so he had settled on the tree where the two of them had first spoken; he wanted to pour the memories into the tree so that they would, in a way, live on.

They had discussed how this would not absolve Severus of his feelings entirely. That was not how memories worked; not the important ones anyway. Memories left residue, they imprinted on your feelings if not upon your mind. He would still know he had loved Lily, he would still know what he had done for her son, and, especially, what this had all cost him. It would feel like a dream, one those dreams that bothers you throughout the day and you can’t quite work out whether it was real or not.

But there would also be hope, finally, for some closure. Not having the memories in his head all those years had not taken the pain away, but it had made things at least bearable, not so all-consuming. The reprieve of not having those memories to dwell on day in, day out, was the only thing that had allowed him to start a new life after the war, to love Hermione, even. So, if the memories were gone for good, it seemed that, although there would always be difficult times, a shift could finally occur that might make it easier for them all to navigate a future.

‘Perhaps not, Severus, but the roots are still healthy,’ Hermione pointed out, indicating where the thick tree roots snaked out of the ground.

‘It’s very fitting, Snape,’ Harry interjected, ‘that you should do it here, where you first properly met… It opens at the close… a new beginning.’

Severus nodded and removed the phial from his pocket. He kneeled down close to the tree and uncorked it and then, before he betrayed himself again, he poured the contents out. The strange part-liquid, part-vapour, spilled over the ground and the four of them watched as they seeped into the roots like dissipating mist. When they had gone Severus stood up and retreated back to Hermione, who linked her arm through his.

‘That was a very brave thing to do,’ she told him, smiling a genuine smile he’d been worried he might not see again.

‘Well, I couldn’t have done it without you,’ he said, feeling it was safe to pull her into his arms. ‘My love for Lily does not detract from my love of you.’

‘I know,’ she said, stretching up so their lips could meet. They looked into one another’s eyes for a long moment and he realised they had returned to their state of equilibrium. ‘Harry,’ Hermione said, turning to the other couple, ‘Severus and I discussed earlier, when we were making plans, how your mum had been a keen photographer. He has albums full of photos, both that she took and that are of her. Would you like to come back to ours and you can look through them?’

‘I’d love to.’

An alarm sounded from Severus’s wrist-watch; he had forgotten to disenchant it so the alarm still alerted him when it was time to pick Nate up from school.

‘You go ahead,’ he told the group, ‘I’ll go get Nate, bring him home and get him ready. I suspect he’s going to be rather excited to go trick or treating.’

‘You’re going to take him?’ Hermione asked, looking up at Severus quizzically. ‘That’s usually my job.’

‘That’s because I’m usually sulking on Hallowe’en, but things are different now…’

~oOo~

‘That was… intense,’ Erin said, nursing her half-finished cocoa, which she’d forgotten about part-way through Severus’s story.

‘ _Real_ love is, Erin,’ Hermione pointed out. ‘Love _means_ something.’ Erin nodded to show she’d understood her mother’s inference in respect of Edgar.

‘And to be clear, the real love in _that_ story was mine and your mother’s… that she would stand be me like that…’ he said, turning to where she sat beside him and planting a firm kiss on her lips.

‘Were you OK after that, dad?’ Nate asked, looking concernedly over at his father from where he’d situation himself in front of the fire.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Severus, looking up from where he was inspecting his injured finger. ‘Hallowe’en can be hard but I felt more at peace with things once I’d shared everything with Pott- your Uncle Harry, knowing that she won’t be forgotten, that turned out to be the main thing in the end.’

Severus looked over a Nate who seemed satisfied. ‘How often did you have to Obliviate our Primary School teachers?’ he asked, grinning.

‘Oh, Merlin! More often than I’d like to admit!’ Severus replied, smiling himself and shaking his head. ‘How we weren’t hauled in by The Ministry for breaching The International Statute of Secrecy, I’ll never know!’

They all laughed and it felt nice to laugh after that story.

Hermione picked up the Puzzle Box and peered inside it. ‘I think,’ she said, rolling up her sleeve, ‘it’s my turn and that I’m going to find something a bit more cheerful.’


End file.
